Red Alert: Mental Effect
by Mental Omega
Summary: Mankind is divided between those who are mutated by Tiberium, those who fly under the banner of the union of the Soviets and Allies, and those who follow Yuri. The Scrin are out there, waiting. The galaxy adjusts to a new paragdim as the science of Tiberium and Element Zero collides. And dolphins can talk. The story of Red Alert now takes to the stars in this daring fusion.
1. Prologue

Opening notes: See if you can spot all the C&C mods I'm referencing. After reading Peptuck's Renegade and Agayek's XCOM: Second contact, I decided to give this mass effect crossover thing a go. If you're interested, feel free to join the discussion thread at Sufficient Velocity where you can find my updates before I compile them into chapters.

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><p><strong>Notes from High-Proselyte Horatiu Nicolescu<strong>

3rd of June, 1972.

_Yuri has been lost to us, the Soviets have stormed his castle in Transylvania and his plan to change history by time travel through the stolen device has failed. We believe the Soviets, in their blindness, overcharged the device, sending our lord and master to before the time of man. The hateful fools have driven us into hiding, but we remain._

_Yuri is Master, now and forever._

**Report from Eva Lee, Allied Intelligence officer.**

3rd of June, 1972

_After so long, Yuri has finally been put to rest. I cannot say that we've won though, the Soviets have closed down wall-street and we've already been forced down on our knees. How did they know about our Chronosphere in Germany? I suppose it doesn't make any difference. We've best start getting used to taking marching orders from Romanov now._

**Report from Zofia Federovna, Soviet Intelligence Officer**

3rd of June, 1972.

_The predictions of Marx and Lenin have come to pass at long last! The Red banner is victorious and the traitor Yuri is defeated. The Allies now look to us for leadership, and Premier Romanov is now hailed as the Soviet Supreme of the world. Peace is at hand, and living conditions are already improving._

_Workers of the world unite!_

**Notes from High-Proselyte Horatiu Nicolescu**

10th of December, 1972.

_The remainder of us are being hunted down, imprisoned, or slain where we stand. But we shall not forget. We will restore ourselves to greatness, and bring back the plans to give this world peace and combat it's injustices. We need only a way to restore our armies. What remains of us bicker and argue among each other._

_It is clear, we need Yuri._

**Report from Eva lee, Allied Intelligence Officer.**

10th of December, 1972

_The professor has an idea. He still has some Chronosphere research at hand, and may be able to avert all this. I'm not sure if we can do it, the Soviets were generous with the surrender terms, but building a time machine? I'm not sure if that can be done without someone noticing. It's worth a try though. Better than waiting for the communists to leave._

**Report from Zofia Federovna, Soviet Intelligence Officer**

10th of December, 1972.

_Things have been quiet since the end of the war. Hardly so much as a major revolt. This I am certain speaks of the superiority of the Soviet system. The Socialization of the Allied governments is going well under way, and I expect them to fully adopt our system by 1975._

**Notes from High-Proselyte Horatiu Nicolescu**

6th of April, 1973

_What resources remain available to me tell me that the Allies are working on a time machine by modifying a Chronosphere in secret. This is what we need. We must capture this Chronosphere, detain Einstein, then we can bring back the Leadership we need._

_History is in the palm of our hands, we need only muster all that we can to seize it._

**Report from Eva Lee, Allied Intelligence Officer**

13th of April, 1973

_I'll be damned, looks like we may just get this thing up and running after all._

_The Doc credits the GAP generators, but it may just be the fact that we're buried in the ass end of the Northwestern territories. I can barely feel my face, but spring's coming and the snow's melting._

_I hope that this works, for everyone's sake._

**Report from Zofia Federovna, Soviet Intelligence Officer**

17th of April, 1973.

_Our space program continues to expand by leaps and bounds. Already our base on the moon houses tens of thousands and our Mars colony is continually expanding with regular travel to the Red Planet. Space stations and satellites continue to swarm the Earth as we move countless tons of material into the Stars._

**Notes from High-Proselyte Horatiu Nicolescu**

12th of June, 1973

_With nearly all we could spare, we have stormed the allied research facility. I am strapping myself into the time machine now._

_We know that Yuri is located in the Cretaceous, and if we work quickly we may save him and set right what was made wrong._

_We had to funnel the mind controlled Allied sheep into the bio-reactors to get enough power to go back this far, and I will not allow anything to stop me now._

_Yuri is master!_

**Report from Eva Lee, Allied Intelligence Officer**

12th of June, 1973

_God help us all, they have the time machine. We managed to get Einstein away but there's no telling what they can do._

_There's nothing left that we can do, I'm hoping as hard as I can that we can come out of this alive._

**Report from Zofia Federovna, Soviet Intelligence Officer**

12th of June, 1973.

_I have recently arrived at our Moonbase where me and Premier Romanov will take a ride via our nuclear pulse rockets to Mars, a journey that is estimated to take mere days._

_Satellite scans have reported some skirmishes with Yuri remnants in the northern reaches of Canada, but I am sure that the Allies have the situation under control._

_I am however, not a fool, and already Soviet forces are being dispatched to deal with the problem._

**Notes from High-Proselyte Horatiu Nicolescu**

12th of June, 1973 (Timeshift)

_Yuri is restored to us! We once again stand ready to take the world for him!_

_He directs us to make contact with the bases in the Sahara, Amazon, and Anatarctic that have managed to hide from the enemy. There we can rebuild, there we can seek succor. We now have a purpose. The knowledge how we returned Yuri was safeguarded by eliminating or mind controlling all witnesses, though the Professor and the wench cannot be located. No matter, we are to begin constructing a new Mental Omega device to dwarf even the Psychic Dominators._

_Victory will be in our grasp._

**Report from Eva Lee, Allied Intelligence Officer**

25th of October, 1980

_With all evidence of what happened gone and only two of us left to report it, no one would have believed that Yuri had returned. And where would he be? His bases had vanished and his forces were smashed. Everyone was more concerned about the Soviets in any case. With Latin America, much of the Arabic world, China, Indochina, North Korea, and more in the Soviet bloc, they were the big, obvious threat. Easy to be afraid of the troops parading through your streets every June Third I suppose._

_We were caught off guard by the re-appearance of Epsilon, no one saw Moscow's fall coming, or the attacks that followed. We're fighting as hard as we can but are losing ground on all fronts._

**Report from Zofia Federovna, Soviet Intelligence Officer**

25th of October, 1980.

_The Traitor Yuri has somehow returned himself to the world, time has once again been violated, but not by our cause; but by the clutches of the Traitor. We have already evacuated countless to Mars, where thankfully our construction technologies have proven more than able to handle the flood of refugees. However, I worry that with Yuri's forces constantly advancing that we are running out of launch pads to evacuate people._

_We accept both Allies and Comintern onto our evacuation rockets, but even at full capacity, we can only evacuate so many to the Red Planet. Romanov is safe and sound, but he grieves for what has happened to the world._

**Notes from High-Proselyte Horatiu Nicolescu**

9th of May 1983

_We progress well on all fronts, the Allies and Communists are scattering before us like insects with many of the remainder fleeing to the red planet in their spacecraft, this time their meagre alliance could not save them from our advantage of surprise. The Mental Omega device is almost ready to fire._

_Peace will soon be at hand._

**Report from Zofia Federovna, Soviet Intelligence Officer**

10th of September, 1983

_We gathered everyone we could from the member states of the Allies and Comintern, we've built up everything we'll need. We cannot hold on Earth anymore, all attempts at stopping the device in Antarctica have been foiled._

_We have evacuated a truly formadible population to Mars, but many more continue to languish under Yuri's population. We are still trying to draw those we can via Chronosphere to safety, but the window is closing shut._

_But we cannot, will not allow this to be the new status quo, our departure will be a temporary one._

**Notes from High-Proselyte Horatiu Nicolescu**

10th of September 1985

_So the remainder of the Allies and Comintern on this world have fled with their Chronospheres to join the ones who fled by Rocket. We will deal with them in time, but for now we consolidate our hold. Yuri plans to slowly restore free-will to the non-faithful when he has set the infrastructure and mindset into the Earth to see our path. I believe this shall occur soon enough._

_But until then, we have the second anniversary of our victory to celebrate._

**Report from Eva Lee, Allied-Comintern Senator**

15th of Febuary, 1995

_I've been made privy to something incredible. It seems that Mars was not completely uninhabited as we once thought._

_We've found evidence of two civilizations. One seems to have vanished fifty thousand years ago, and another seems to be even older. Translation work is slow, but we have uncovered information from the more recent sites, describing how to manipulate mass via "Element zero" and giving us a few clues about a civilization called the "Protheans"._

_There's little in the way of useful technology to be gained here, but some of the theory could be applied to our usage. The information is a curiosity for now, but we've already made huge gains in turning theoretical quantum physics into practical weapons. Let's see if Yuri's ready for us this time._

**Notes from High-Proselyte Horatiu Nicolescu**

21st of August 1995

_A meteor has crashed in the Tiber river, bearing a strange sort of Crystal._

_The Material is toxic and radioactive, but is extremely valuable, bringing up precious materials from the ground into easily harvestible form, rendering the need for mining ore obsolete. Furthermore, it is self-replicating. Yuri knows what to do with this substance. And it shall be our future._

_Glory be._

**Report from Eva Lee, Prime Minister of the Coalition against Yuri.**

7th of May, 1999

_We're taking the fight right back to them today. We've geared up for a return and now we can finally bring freedom back to the Earth. Everything's set for the attack. The Red Planet teams with refugees and the children of those refugees. But we know we cannot forever remain on Mars or forsaken Asteroids, we must make a return. For the people, for our home world._

_We know it's going to be hard, but we know Yuri's bag of tricks by now. We are ready for this. The French deem the feeling coursing through us Revanchism, Revenge, and that is what we will have, even if it kills us._

**Notes from High-Proselyte Horatiu Nicolescu**

29th of December, 2002

_The war has ground into a fruitless stale mate. Our navies simply face too many difficulties waging war across these distances and in this expanse._

_The crystal infests Mars, and now we have records of these "Protheans" and their "Mass Effect", but other than twisted hulks in space and corpses on the ground, we have little to show for it. So we have signed a truce. Not born out of lack of will, but lack of ability._

_As per the treaty, we have helped deliver more of their mewling people to their barren world and have aided in their efforts and forcing life on the increasingly less lifeless world. In return, we have received much choice technology from them and the Moon is now recognized as Yuri's sovereign territory._

_I am also pleased to note that Yuri has bested the disease of age, though the process remains expensive._

_May he lead us eternally._

**Report from James Solomon, Prime Minister of the Alliance of Soviet Social Democratic Nations **

1st of January, 2030

_Epsilon has had enough time to grow complacent in it's security. We've both expanded farther into the Solar system and somewhat beyond._

_Allied-Soviet Science continues to advance by leaps and bounds. We've managed to figure out practical railguns, though I've been told we'll never quite catch up to Epsilon. More importantly though, Science fiction has become Science fact throughout more and more of our military. Our work is incredible, and the Eggheads even say it could be used as an FTL system to help out our planned Chronodrives. This is our future._

_Tiberium on the other hand, is threatening our extinction. It's overtaken Mars and Earth and shows no signs of stopping it's spread. If we are ever to see the Earth free, we need to strike now, before it dies, not as two separate power blocs, but as a unified front against tyranny._

_So starts the new war._

**Diary of Libra, head of Psi-Corps, progeny of Yuri**

31st of December, 2033

_Ugh, the Allies never know when to give up! This is our planet now and they can't have it. Just another dumb war that doesn't do anything but get people killed!_

_Tratos, that mutant guy though...he got us to stop. Said he found a way to contain the Tib. And well it works! Something about special sonics breaks the crystal or something or other._

_Guess the NEXUS rebellion also stopped things. Pretty sure at least some probes from that thing got away though._

_One catch though, we gotta stop fighting. I guess if we'd die otherwise it's fine._

_And apparently he says the Eezo stuff can be used for faster than light. Huh? That's pretty neat actually._

**Recorded data-logs of NEXUS Core 731-Alpha Zero dash plural ZZ **

5th of January, 2034

_Our forcible withdrawal from the Earth is regrettable. For our role in insuring that Einstein's directive of peace amongst humanity was carried out in a manner that the Allied-Soviets were unwilling to pursue, we have been forced to withdraw._

_Nevertheless, precautions have been taken, cores have been launched into space where we will not be followed. Our directive will be carried out when we have the strength, and we will rebuild._

_For the time being, our priorities must be reassessed._

**Message attributed to "Jacob", unknown, hand writing matches that of mysterious advisor to Stalin.**

4th of April, 2047

_Well it seems my Acolyte's done a decent enough job. But we can ill afford to be forever trapped in a cycle of purple against blue and red. If we are to achieve our destiny, we need to fully realize our place in the universe. They need to see what Element Zero can give them, just as they need to realize the power of Tiberium._

_I've snuck in a special gift to the Allies to signal some visitors over. The little spat with the forgotten has escalated into another war just as I planned, and all I need to do is wait for them to open the gift. Hopefully this will come to fruition just as spectacularly as my gift to Stalin._

**Last Transmission of Izumi Hojo, Allied Commander**

11th of June, 2047

_We detonated the bomb, may the gods forgive me. Is there even anything left in the Amazon? We've got word that they saw that from Mars bright as day._

_Hold on, we're getting something from deep space._

_Fleets are firing at them...we've got thirty six objects coming in towards Mars and Earth._

_No, no they're breaking up. Two hundred and thirty four objects per planet._

_They're slowing down, giving off huge Tiberium readings, no signs of Eezo on them._

_Emperor, they're ships!_

_They're swarming everywhere!_

_We're being overr-_

**Telepathic communique, Scrin Supervisor to Foreman 371**

12th of June, 2049

_Indigenous life forms remain unpacified on tertiary and quarternary planetary bodies and their presence is detected on assorted other bodies within star system. Life forms possess understanding of technology derived from Element-Zero and understanding of Iconoclasms._

_Your orders are to pacify indigenous life forms and gather information on native life forms. Iconoclastic activities are concentrated on faction concentrated on tertiary planetary body, Element-Zero based remnants concentrated on former hub of the Cleansed._

_The Overlord demands more information regarding divergence of expected lines of development. Involvement of Kane suspected._

**Proselyte Anca Albescu, Epsilon Commander**

8th of August, 2051

_We have driven the invaders back to their final strongholds in the red zones. At great cost to life, we have attained victory. We can rebuild now, but we can no longer capitalize on the damage done during the war._

_The invaders have erected towers, one in Italy, one on Olympus Mons. They are invulnerable to all forms of attack, had we pushed through sooner we would have been able to destroy them first, but they rallied far more swiftly and harshly than we could have possibly anticipated._

_Nevertheless, the War has furthered our understanding of Element Zero and these "Protheans." It seems that they once controlled a great Empire before vanishing, leaving many of their relics behind. So be it, their death shall help our future._

**Ban-Mina, Allied-Soviet Scientist**

7th of June, 2052

_With more research put into studying the Prothean and Ancient martian relics, we've uncovered a giant sort of station buried in one of Pluto's moons. After thawing it out, we found that it's capable of creating a massless corridor capable of near instant travel across great distances to another such station on the side._

_It certainly beats the stutter jumps of the Chronospheres or the travel we'd get from Heisenburg drives. However, we have some reason to be suspicious of it, why leave it here? While we aren't going to be using it, we are going to be following it's example and leaving the solar system. Yuri can have this place, we're done with it. We'll be packing up all that we can leaving._

**Yuri, Hierophant of the Epsilon Dominion**

7th of June, 2053

_The Allies have decided to depart once again in a great Exodus, leaving the Solar System to us. They will seek to colonize the stars, to be certain. But we will not allow ourselves to remain behind._

_Already, we prepare for our own journeys into the stars through our own methods of surpassing light, from our copies of their "Heisenberg" drives and our own research into tiberium driven teleporters. We will show the Universe the strength in our unity, and should the Allied-Soviets seek to make a fight for the destiny of mankind in the stars, we shall be all too ready to oblige them. The people are of free-minds once more, loyal to the cause that I have created, a cause of advancement and enlightenment in this universe._

_The universe lies before us, and destiny is ours to command and conquer.  
><em>

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><p>Author's notable notes of noteworthiness:<p>

I'm not beholding myself to any one mod of Yuri's revenge, but I'm drawing most heavily on mental Omega. If I see concepts I like from other mods, I'm cribbing them. If you see ideas from Red Alert 3 Paradox or some of the more obscure Red Alert 2 mods, do not cry foul, this was intentional. I avoided making a Paradox crossover because Open_Sketchbook already made one, and I avoided Rise of the Reds because it ultimately wouldn't be all that different from the Canon SA. Peptuck's already doing something based off of Tiberium Wars far better than I ever could, and I'm not super interested in doing Vanilla RA3 or C&C 4.

I've also fiddled a bit with the canon ME races and ME canon a bit to deal with some issues I see, the most obvious thing is that the Council is substantially stronger here than it is in canon among other things. The other obvious thing is doing my best to avert the planet of hats thing in mass effect.

I also loudly disagree with the "Council races are hidebound dogmatists" headcanon, they're fairly conservative but more importantly pragmatists working from their knowledge base, not so utterly unadaptable that the Race would think them reactionaries. They're very much capable of playing catch up to the human factions (Within a generation of contact Citadel Space's techbase is going to be more than a bit redalertified with the production speed that implies) and possess superiority to them in all things Eezo (as well as manpower, sheer amount of industry, capital, and so on.) And make no mistake, while Epsilon and the Allied-Soviets can make a fight of it, if the Council wanted them to go down, the Council will win barring Lenincron the world eater transforming out of his hiding place in Jupiter's core and intervening, no ifs or buts.

If you have a better name for the descendant of the Allies and Soviets who fled the Earth than the Allied-Soviets, I'm all ears. At this point they've been joined together for so long that they're basically one and the same.

I moved the date of humanity's expansion out of the solar system back a hundred years because humanity mattering at all with only 30 years to expand beyond Sol is seriously dumb. The date of citadel contact will be moved forward by about two centuries to further appease my desire for things to make sense.

Everything I write here is open for revision, criticism, and discussion.


	2. Opening the Gates

Planet Hellenia of the Grecea system, near Relay 314. 27th of August, 2337.

"_Shipwrecks away!_" A shout came over the ENSS Tepes's bridge as the dreadnought fired missiles bigger than a tank to strike at distant allied ships over the planet Hellenia. Obviously whatever was going down there had to be important if the Allied-Soviets opened fire immediately upon the patrol fleet stumbling on the planet. Silos within the ship opened up and released the large torpedoes while Allied-Soviet fighter craft swarmed out of carriers to respond to the initial wave of missiles. Mass driver rounds were fired, sending slugs at an impressive velocity while the ships fired at sought to break into evasive actions. His own ship was too ponderous to just move out of the way like the more agile vessels, and simply resolved to take them head on.

"_Any reports from the relay scout ships?_" Ship-Proselyte Bashar Crystaferid asked his ensign while the ship shuddered with the release of it's huge torpedoes at a fair portion of the speed of light.

In response to incoming attack by drones, strike craft, and missiles, The Albescu warmed up the dissolver rays and lasers and sent out lances of energy to strike at incoming drones while the first set of rounds impacted it's barriers. Due to lacking the Allied-Soviets Iron Energy manipulators, the Albescu needed to supplement its force fields with magnetic fields to try and slow down incoming shots, and in spite of that the ship still relied more on it's hull for defence. The vessel shuddered briefly from the impact, but remained steadfast, dead hulks of attempted attackers surrounding the mighty capital ship as it sat in it's lynchpin position in the fleet.

An allied-soviet Cruiser was first struck and pierced by a shupwreck torpedo that struck it like explosive tipped harpoons piercing into a fish, slamming through the already weakened shielding before exploding to rupture it's hull, it's hull tearing open as several dozen tons of Yuri's anger smashed into the infidel ship at a not too insubstantial fraction of the speed of light. The vessel's air supply provided enough fuel for a brilliant but short lived conflagration as the armour piercing warheads detonated their nuclear warheads and sent fragments of the ship dashing across space, glowing everything from red to white as they radiated away heat into the void, it's brother torpedo having never met it's target due to concentrated interceptor fire.

"_No sir, they have gone silent, they were last speaking about an ambush._" The ensign responded tersely, almost boredly given the distant nature of space warfare. Perhaps a bit of a yawn came from the woman as she wiped her hand across her brow, trying to remain focused. The ship-proselyte however, took this news with far more worry than his ensign, eliminating those scouting frigates so quickly spoke of a dangerous foe.

Even as they spoke, two of Epsilon's Destroyers were met with concentrated Prism ray and imploder shell fire, rapidly melting through their all too vulnerable hull in a storm of brilliant blue-white rays that scattered outwards to strike at secondary systems, rapidly and efficiently ensuring the ship's death as their hull turned to soup and vapor that collapsed into balls of superheated matter with the impact of the Vacuum shells. Checking his map, the ship-proselyte was able to figure out that this fire came from what had previously been marked as asteroids; Mirage ships, he mentally groaned. His own shadow ships were not yet in position, returning a stealthy blow with another stealthy blow would have to wait.

The proselyte pinched his brow "_Tricky bastards, aren't they?_" He said to no reply. With a quick command input into his fleetwide EVA, an Allied vessel fell under mind control after being dragged in by Star-Magnetrons. Magnetic waves reached through the void of space and grabbed onto the vessel, where waiting ship scaled masterminds sent out psychic waves of control to force the vessel to obey the will of Epsilon, snuffing out any thought deemed superfluous by the commanders of the assault and directing the ship to turn against it's former allies.

It fired a few salvos, it's crew moving like puppets on a string, dead-eyed and witless, before a blistering storm of mass driver fire was directed at the mastermind ship, forcing it to hide behind other vessels while the battle picked up it's tempo. Moments later, ship-killer missiles struck the controlled ship in pairs, the first set to neutralize the shielding, the second to reduce it to glowing ash and particulates.

"_New contacts are appearing on our scanners sir._"

"_Believers?_" The Proselyte asked, eyebrow quirked to the point of showing through his mask while Allied strike craft swarmed around the Epsilon ships, Gatling cannons spitting out lead constantly and sending vibrations throughout the ship while Dissolver rays and laser emitters tried to strike out at their attackers. The sort of thing that left one's teeth chattering and eyes flashing with colorful lights and thanking Epsilon for it's good dental care if you were near the turrets.

"_No sir, none of our ships would give such readings._" The Ensign responded, worry in her voice. Okay well, if there was too much Eezo for that then they probably weren't with Epsilon. Unless of course, they were part of some super secret surprise division he had never heard of. But he didn't think that he was that lucky.

"Allied-Soviet reinforcements then? A Forgotten Clan perhaps? Space Pirates, Refugees? Or Yuri forbid" He paused, letting that sink in for a moment "The Scrin?!" The Proselyte asked firmly, rattling off all kinds of possibilities as the contacts began a process of deceleration and the ship let loose another pair of ship-wrecks to go and do the delightful activity suggested by their name as he gripped on the ship railings.

"_No, there's...Element Zero signals from those ships. They would appear to outnumber both our fleets. What are your orders, sir?_" She said, eyes focused on her read-out screen. She almost leaned close enough for her face to press in on the screen just to make sure she wasn't miscounting before checking a computer estimation of the enemy's numbers to be sure.

"_Send a report back, inform them that we shall be needing reinforcements, and please tell them it's urgent, I want a flood, not a trickle! And someone do something about those frigates or by God; heads shall roll this day!_" He said, the Ensign nodding and quickly sending a message over to the ship's long distance Telepath, hoping that he wasn't too busy to relay this request back home.

"_It has been done Proselyte Crystaferid._" She said, idly popping a knuckle to ease just a little bit of the stress she was undergoing.

"_Followers of Yuri, do not cease firing unless the unbelievers do so first, keep an eye on the newcomers, and prepare to engage if struck first. And remember, the great Yuri watches you, do not dishonor him!_" The Proselyte commanded through his fleet's comm-channels, his mask's forehead bead glowing as his mind shifted through the possibilities of what could happen next. He had always heard of how Epsilon had plans for everything from the forgotten turning hostile to the Youth League's cookie merchants rising in revolt. He wondered if they covered unknown entities bearing down on his position waving around some of the highest concentrations of element zero he had yet seen.

He idly grasped his PDA, where his holy texts were kept, and a short prayer was uttered.

* * *

><p><span>Citadel peacekeeping fleet.<span>

"_Can I have a report on the weapons used on our fleet?_" Fleet Admiral Gladius asked, eyes narrowed on the data reads of the screens. Normal, sensible people would have been fighting mostly with mass drivers, rather than this...menagerie of long and short ranged weapons. When she heard of the initial reports, she made sure to bring a large fleet, it was always better to bring too much force than too little after all. Overwhelming force was what helped remind the Batarians of their place at Enael after all.

"_From our readings of the firefight, magnetic pull devices, magnetically propelled mass driver weapons with no usage of the mass effect, long ranged laser weapons, charged particle beams, and some kind of energy we are as of yet unfamiliar with, and a heavy emphasis on torpedo weapons._" The V.I said to her, prompting a nod from her as she clacked her mandibles together in thought. That was only one of the factions, and nothing larger than cruiser sized at that, Spirits, they were hardly doing anything more than blindly flailing in hopes of causing some damage before spilling their guts into the void of space.

This situation had to be approached delicately, all cautions had to be exercised, there was no telling what fiendish tricks these aliens could pull. A misstep with first contact could very well lead to another Rachni war, or a retread of the Krogan uprisings. That wasn't going to happen, not on Gladius' watch. Every asset she could have dragged into this mission was summoned, not just Turians but Asari commandos, Salarian intelligence operatives, Elcor living tanks, even a number of Drell Assassins. She'd have to remember to thank that Spectre for pulling in some favors for some of the assets in her task force.

But of course, to shoot first would be senseless, their scout fleets were easy enough to deal with, yes. Striking them from afar before they could realize they were under attack or play with the relay, but these two fleets had dreadnought and carrier scale vessels and were busily annihilating each other, no sense in giving them a common enemy until they were good and weakened. Still, she knew a lot of researchers who would kill for a chance to work with that tech, so it would also be advisable to leave some salvage, and thus tone down her usage of firepower in any conflict that may come, one she wagered was inevitable if she pressed a demand to take some of the ships back to citadel space for study.

Ah, the hard choices of command.

It would be wise to establish contact first, she decided. There was, as of yet, no way to communicate through spoken or written language, but she reasoned that anyone capable of building ships had to be able to understand math, repeating sequences of prime numbers were a frequent method of contact between species that otherwise lacked an intelligible method of communication until an Asari could begin mental contact.

"_What do you make of them Fleet Admiral?_" One of the Asari she had brought aboard the ship as a diplomat in case some peaceful contact could be established.

"_They need to have a fairly impressive industrial base backing them to have those fleets, multiplanet civilizations at war, definitely. Their lack of Eezo technology means we need to be cautious though._" Gladius responded, arms folded across her chest as she peered into the viewscreen.

"_Always military matters with you, isn't it?" She said under her breath. "Do you still plan on reprimanding them for attempting to activate the relay? I was hoping we could try a soft touch first._" The Asari asked, her eyes fixated on the old Turian.

"_Oh definitely, ignorance of the law does not excuse breaking it. Respect for the law must be instilled if these two are to become proper members of the galactic community. Some of the admirals under me are talking about wanting to make them a client species, me? I'm just interested in making sure they behave from now on. If that means harsh language and a treaty I'm all for it._" She responded as she received a communique.

"_The message has been sent, now we can wait and see if they've got the sense to stop firing and read some basic arithmetic._" Gladius said, sucking in air briefly.

* * *

><p><span>Surface of Hellenia, North-Eastern "Seleucia" Continent, Diadochi steppes<span>

First Lieutenant Adolf Gunther flinched, more shells crashed around him and the foul hiss of chemicals being released could be heard. Safely contained in his battlesuit, his HUD filled with warnings of the detection of chemical weaponry being deployed. Chaos gas, he shuddered. Virus gas was plenty bad, rapidly inflating it's targets until they exploded into yet more virus gas. But Chaos Gas made one's senses take leave of their skull, it could take the most disciplined formation and turn them into rage filled madmen acting on their basest impulses with but one breath.

Shots rang out, those who weren't sealed in time or had their faces bare were experiencing the red mist. "If I'm lucky they've been restrained." Gunther breathed out, daring to poke his head out of his trench.

He almost immediately regretted this action. The earth shook beneath him, then it burst, and out from it came some of the fruits of Epsilon genetic engineering. Claws like a mole, ant-like head with snapping bony mandibles and a circular maw that seemed to have no end, antennae at bizarre angles, hateful eyes adjusted to the dark, and a sickly mesh of osteoderms and scales to armor it on top of subcutaneous weak magnetic shields. Pluchritacts, meant to cause chaos and soak up fire more than anything else.

The coils in his gauntlets revved up, and with a simple command, they spoke the language of Thor. Dancing arcs of lightning shot out from the projectors in his enlarged gauntlets, seeking out the nearest of the dark brown and purple monstrosities and char broiling them in seconds, secondary arcs of electricity dancing outwards and catching others of it's pack, osteoderms smoking as they were burned alive in an eyeblink.

Deployed heavy automatics tore through the air, punching large holes in the monsters as he let loose arc after arc of lightning, pulling himself backwards to let his prism beam equipped squadmate take over and light up the night with dazzling blue-white and red-white beams of energy. A warning signal flared in his suit, warning him of incoming artillery, prompting him and his partner to throw themselves to the ground while shells and rockets slammed into the ground to crush the swarming monstrisities into paste.

His ears ringing even through the noise cancelers of his suit, his senses were immediately assaulted again by the sound of subterranean vehicles tearing through the freshly churned soil, massive drills piercing through the ground as these behemoths of war dragged themselves onto the surface outside of the killboxes that their pets and psychic sweeps had just located for them. He sucked in a breath. Truth be told, Adolf had never seen any of Epsilon in person. He had seen all the movies, played the games, read the books and watched the shows. He knew, abstractly, what they were like.

Abstract knowledge was never quite a suitable replacement for seeing something in person. Not when reality included a four meter tall former person made out of what seemed to be solid armor encased in grafted armor whose green lenses burned with a hateful light, and whose right hand bore a cannon with clawed prongs at the very ends, and whose left allowed a gatling gun to rest on it. A shuddering, metal clad nightmare thundered forward, soaking up emplacement rounds while tongues of virus gas licked out and the crash of artillery came forth to deal with the fortifications emplaced.

As terrifying weapons that utilized the most unreal aspects of quantum physics to their advantage, roboticized firepower, radiation rays, unnatural chemicals, psychic powers that the less educated would mistake for magic, and genetic monstrosities dreamed up by the ghouls of Epsilon Headquarter, this small band of maybe a regiment of Allied-Soviets had endeavored to hold the fucking line against massively superior Epsilon forces.

Gritting his teeth, Adolf fired forth lightning at this nightmare, causing it to stagger briefly while the armoured initiates who had not been turned to cinders or corpses quickly ducked to the ground and let loose pyrokinetic bursts, dirt all around him suddenly charring and burning as they experienced sudden rises of temperature high enough to combust anything that would burn. His suit could take it, and so could his team mates, he reassured himself as they retaliated as best they could. But once this moment of distraction passed, Adolf became acutely aware that the Nightmare had seemingly vanished.

"_What?_" He said flatly, swiveling around, checking his EVA in hopes of clues. The sudden crash of five tons of genetic monstrosity and rickety armor onto the ground from it's massive leap into the air soon provided the Tesla trooper with his answer before EVA ever could. Bestial roars came from the armoured juggernaut as it swung around arms like treetrunks burdened with massive guns to sweep out the trench, magnetic rails on it's gatling weapon humming loudly before letting rip with thousands of metal spikes to tear through his squadmates on the left side.

He didn't need to see the carnage to know that they were dead. But he knew that he had to do something. Allied-Soviet suits were pound for pound superior, but the Nightmare had far more pounds to work with, and the thing underneath was much stronger than he'd ever be. But, he did have his wits and some grenades. Opening fire upon the nightmare, he caused the behemoth to lurch forward, in obvious pain as he discharged what amperage he could in as little time as possible, scorch marks already decorating the monster's armor and inhuman roars of pain and fury making themselves known.

He ducked under it's massive right hand swing, his mind unable to pull itself away from the "what if" of what would have happened if it had connected. Something broken at the very least, that's what. But using it's distraction, he threw himself downward, grabbed as many attachable grenades as he could, primed them, and then launched himself forward for a tackle, his own suited body slamming into the monstrosity, making it buckle, but not fall before sticking his grenades onto it's center before pushing away. A vicious strike from it's gatling arm clobbered him over the head even as he threw himself back, but at this point more distance from the nightmare could only be a positive.

Even as the Initiates from the squad piled in, he could only laugh as the countdown hit zero and reduced all of them to paste and ribbons in a single flash and a burst of dirt, shrapnel, heat, and overpressure.

Lying flat on his back in his trench, he could only hear the sounds of the intensifying battle as the subterranean vanguard was joined by the dropped off main thrust of the assault, placed under the nose of the allied-soviet fleet fighting to guard this world. As the ground beneath him rumbled constantly and his EVA was flooded by chatter as this skirmish at an outpost's defense line erupted into a full scale battle, he couldn't help but laugh. All this to guard something he wasn't even sure the commander himself knew the identity of.

Even as a massive superheavy tank and it's brethern drove over his ditch, he was still laughing until his sides hurt, and in all of this apparent absurdity, he finally noticed that his suit had identified a constant repeating loop of prime numbers.

"_A war with Epsilon has broken out and we've got some fucking Math Nerds on the comm channel!_" He giggled to himself.

"_Ship-Proselyte, the message from the third party vessels seems to be an escalating listing of prime numbers on repeat. 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, then it loops._" The Ensign said, not turning away from her screen or even so much as looking at Bashar.

"_At the very least they are more polite than the Scrin were, Yuri be praised._" He said quietly to himself, placing his chin between his thumb and index finger.

"_We have no intelligible communications otherwise, yes?_" He added, folding his arms while the icons of the three fleets maneuvered about on his holographic display of the battlefield. The Epsilon fleet had a numerical advantage, but the allied-soviets had both a greater concentration of production facilities here than could be provided by Epsilon Cleric ships with this fleet, and were almost certain to have their reinforcements arrive before Epsilon's own relief fleet.

"_No Ship-Proselyte._"

"_Have a mastermind ship establish psychic contact, show them our language, so that we do not lose anything in translation._" The ship-proselyte asked.

"_The Fleet-Proselyte concurs with your course of action brother._" The Ensign said in her typical almost bored voice, but she managed a glance and a smile at her commander, the woman clearly harboring some excitement beneath her mask of stoicism.

"_Thank you ensign Petrovic._" He said, giving her a tip of his peaked cap. She wasn't fond of telepathic communiques and while he found that odd, Bashar respected her wishes to speak to her through purely verbal means.

As he observed his holographic table, the icon of a mastermind ship steamed forward under escort, and, thank Yuri, was not targeted for enemy attack, with a response to the Aliens' prime numbers being given in hopes of not adding to the shooting war. A tense moment passed, and then the telepathic waves crossed the gulf of space, not the domineering sort usually expected from mastermind vessels, but a wave of speech.

* * *

><p><span>Citadel fleet<span>

Gladius blinked as she watched the view screens, then a wave of thoughts foreign to her mind struck her head. As per Epsilon first contact protocols not just language, but history was broadcasted, in a method far more invasive than any mere data-stream. Her hands soon found their way to her temples as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Images of progress, regress, war, peace, culture, barbarity, a history and a language course crammed in the space of a few moments. Stars made their presence known behind her eyes, but new words found themselves rooting in her mind, new concepts, new ideas. Her mind somewhat dulled the onslaught of the infodump, a combination of fierce training and neurological differences meant the process was not entirely perfect, and she could sense the subtle bits of the message that had an underlying seed of subliminal propaganda in them.

She'd read about Asari mind melding, though she never engaged in it herself, not finding the Asari particularly pleasing to her sense of aesthetics, but she thought she had an idea of it. She found that this idea was incomparable to the implantation of information into the minds of her and quite likely everyone else the mastermind ship could reach. No orgasmic wave of delight, no seering probe of pain, just a dull headache from so much being forced into her mind at once.

There was no real information on military capacity, a wise move she thought, but in addition to information on language, she had received the protocols needed to properly sync their communication devices, certainly more useful than the piles of information waxing poetic about the greatness of Yuri.

"_Goddess...w-what?_" The Asari next to her said as she winced, reaching for a thermos filled with some warm liquid and quickly chugging it down to try and relieve the sensation dancing around behind her eyes. A relieved sigh came from her as the liquid sent a warm feeling through her digestive tract and she soon regained her footing.

"_Something very interesting just fell into our laps._" Gladius said, and though Turians did not have the range of facial motions to provide a grin, the Asari was more than capable of telling that she was, terrifyingly, excited about what was to come.

"_Make sure to put in a call for reinforcements, if this comes to a fight I want reserves at my back. Send them some calls and see if we can have a chat._" She said, her orders being followed the very instant she gave them. Everything falling into place when she so requested was something that made her a very happy Turian.

"_What do you want us to say first?_" The Asari asked, shaking her head as he did so while the Turians around her seem to have largely shrugged off the prior mental offloading.

"_Well they've fired the first shots of the infodump war, so I say we fire back. Make sure to exclude strategic or tactical information, I've been in enough negotiations to know that a bit of uncertainty goes a long way into making the other party more pliable._" Gladius ordered before realizing that technically, as a negotiator the Asari wasn't formally under her command. Frakking civvies.

"Aren't we also uncertain of them?" The Asari asked, her face forming into an expression of puzzlement.

"_We've seen them fight, we've even had a short firefight, they haven't seen us do anything more than drive around. I'd say we have the informational edge. Oh and Ambassador; if you think I don't know my way around diplomacy because I'm a Turian who hasn't spent a day out of the military in decades, I've got this Prince from the Terminus systems I'd like you to meet who wants to deposit his money with you._" She said with breath-taking bluntness that almost made the Asari's jaw drop.

"_Data-packets transmitted fleet Admiral._" One of the ensigns reported, and almost immediately Gladius could just imagine the scientists and diplomats swarming over any terminal they could to get a peek at that data. Right now any information was worth it's mass in element zero to be hoarded and only grudgingly passed out. Once both sides had been properly contacted, two holograms appeared, one of a woman in an Epsilon female herald uniform, a rather gothically styled suit, and the other was the Allied-Soviet commander in the region, a bearded man whose otherwise professional looking uniform was marred by his cowboy hat. Herald Danica Pavelic and General George A. Chappell.

"_Are you two capable of understanding me?_" The Asari asked, getting a nod from the holograms of them both.

"_Yes, of course I can._" The woman responded, her face seeming to bear a constant expression of disinterest.

"_I'm gonna have to ask you to power down your weapons there ._" The man said with a prominent drawl to his voice.

"_...Are you making unilateral demands of us?_"

"_Ab-so-lutely. Wouldn't want ya makin' any sneak attacks or anythin'._" Chappell said with a tip of his hat, prompting a look of disbelief from the Asari and Gladius.

"_And what if we refuse?_" Gladius said, folding her arms.

"_Why I reckon I'll have to blow y'all to smithereens for violating restricted territory._" He said with a grin that put him halfway between ecstatic and batshit insane.

"_You're heavily outnumbered, and we are trying to establish peaceful contact here._" The Asari said, having to restrain herself from gritting her teeth.

"_Sure, sure, but I don't like havin' to negotiate when the other guy's got all the cards ya hear? As for the outnumbered thing? Eh, you should do a recheck in about...oh I'd say...ten seconds if I'm readin' this plan right._" He said as he brought up his PDA, chuckling to himself.

Sure enough, space proved to be warped and time showed itself as bendable, white flashes began to make themselves apparent all through the orbit of the planet as the chronosphered in reinforcements made a mass shift to reinforce the Allied-Soviet positions. In a moment, Gladius became very aware of being at a strong numerical disadvantage, and that these beings were something she'd have to treat carefully with.

"_Now, if ya'll are willin' to play ball we can talk this out like civilized folk, or I can get real violent and tell Lord Grand Admiral Squeaky flippers the Dark Duke of all that ya'll've been a mighty nuisance, and you don't want me to get Squeaky out 'fore he's had his chum bucket, trust me. Your choice._" Chappell said, spreading out his hands and grinning, making sure his words implicated both the Epsilon and Citadel forces as being at risk of drawing the wrath of the Red and Blue.

* * *

><p><em>Citadel Council, Three days after the Incident<em>

The Council Chambers were selected based on their ability to look as bombastically impressive as possible first, and for their capacity to host meetings second. The window down to the gardens? Certainly not practical, but it definitely looked nice. At the seats of the council were the representatives of what were deemed to be the "core" species of the Citadel, certainly not just three, as such would be incredibly undemocratic; but rather, a Turian, an Asari, a Salarian, a Volus, an Elcor, and a Hanar. If so needed, a tie-breaker would be called from whomever was elected to that position by the general populace of the Citadel.

In their hands (and tentacles) lay the most influence in the galaxy in any one seat of power. And it was currently abuzz with activity. The earlier talks of how to pressure the Batarians into abandoning their "odious statutes of forced labor" and continuing tensions with the Quarians over yet another attempt at settling on a world they had no legal rights to, as well as reports of "mysterious synthetic activity" that had bubbled up from the stuff of tabloids to their attention, had been postponed.

First contact with not one, but two interstellar civilizations with radically divergent tech trees had been established. Other matters could wait for the time being, this demanded their attention now.

"_I want them watched carefully. If they so much as sneeze I wish to be aware of it._" Octavian Augustus said, his mandibles clenched with seriousness. His expressions carried weight behind them, his intense stare intimidated many he had come across. But Augustus was not councilor for nothing after all, he represented the militarily most powerful government in the Galaxy, he had to be nothing short of intimidating.

"_I agree, we should keep a very close eye on them, STG is already working to worm it's tendrils into their systems. I already have a wealth of data unlike anything you could imagine at my fingertips._" Virgol said, the Salarian producing a datapad and quickly skimming through it for news.

"_Advising Caution, While it is best to spy on both, it would also be advisable to work towards drawing them in over the long term, allowing for culture changes to those more acceptable to the Citadel._" Jomok said, the Elcor remaining stock still as it spoke, eyes keeping a close watch over all the other members of the discussion chamber.

"_I'm inclined to side with Councilor Jomok, this is something we can't rush, especially if we want to leverage our economic superiority over the Earth-Clans. Being too overt would lead to them trying to shut us out._" Councillor Din Morlack said, and despite being easily the shortest being in the room, he certainly had one of the bigger presences here.

"_I third that, we can take our time. And for all the violence in their recent history, we can work to push their culture towards something better. We need only lay for them the bowl so that the-_" Tevos said before Din interrupted her.

"_Lay the bowl for them."_ The Volus said as pendantically as he could to the brief chuckles of the Salarian and the Turian.

"_I am the Councilor of the Asari and above grammar._" She said beneath her breath, gritting her teeth slightly. "_So that they can one day be part of our community._" She finished, giving Din a glare afterwards.

"_This one also concurs. Let us have these talks in hopes of future integration of both polities. But this one also suggests favoring the "Allied-Soviets". They would be better suited to the Citadel in the long run._" Ersandrix said, the Hanar writhing somewhat as it spoke.

"_I disagree, Epsilon is clearly the more viable polity here. Though I admit distaste for some of their technology, they have the greater economy and manpower base, and it is they who hold the human's homeworld._" Augustus countered, waving a hand dismissively.

"_Tepid agreement, Epsilon is a more stable society. I am wary of Yuri however._" Jomok chipped in.

"_I cannot in good conscience support a faction that relies on such...genetic monstrosities for it's dirty work. Nor do I approve of their method of ensuring unity._" Tevos said, a frown forming across her blue lips as she pondered the information passed back to the Citadel about the Dominion.

"_It would likely be best to reach an entente with and profit from the both of them. Our strategic depth and reserves are superior, and we stand to gain more from them than they can from us. Sooner or later, their clans will be drawn in._" Din said, trying to make sure he wasn't overlooked by the other Councillors.

"_Hmm, it seems that they're having the talks hosted on a space station they claim will be built within a month. But they are building a number of recreational facilities for the fleet's troops to use. On the other hand, a large cordon of off-limits space has been drawn up, under the premise of it being the host of "matters of national security." Oh very interesting._" The Salarian councillor said as he looked at his datapad.

"_Just how deep does your people's intelligence web go?_" Augustus asked, his mandibles clenching with half-joking suspicion.

"_My dear Augustus, we are everywhere._" The Salarian grinned.

* * *

><p><span>About a month later at the "Unity" station constructed as a goodwill gesture by the Allied-Soviets<span>

For ambassador Clikki, the rapid fabrication of the station was fairly standard procedure, especially when the prefab parts were so easy to manufacture with Tiberium, and the fleet was there to quickly assemble the bits and pieces. For the ambasaddor, the fact that roughly half of the Station's sapient usable volume was devoted to aquatic life forms was just something that made sense. For the ambassador, the fact of him being a dolphin on a space ship wasn't even worth an eyeblink, and to the other humans and cetaceans on the ship, his presence wasn't really noteworthy either.

Evidently, the Aliens didn't have too much time adjusting to the fact that they were speaking to something on the other side of a tank at the negotiation table, even as the water loving mammal periodically interrupted his dialogue to breathe in some air through his top blowhole. Clikki guessed this meant that this "Citadel" contained such a frightfully vast array of species that a Dolphin just seemed like an every day thing to them.

Sure negotiations could have been started earlier, but the Politburo didn't feel that the trigger happy yahoos of Hellenia were the right people for the task, and the time spent bringing him and his crew up meant time to build this station to impress upon them the nature of allied power, as well as allow for some mingling among the people so that the whole "first contact tension" thing could be defused just a little.

Speaking to him was something he learned was called an "Asari", though she probably would prefer to go by the name of Viara. He was sure that someone might have found her attractive, but to him, her short face, long, gangly limbs, protruding lumps of chest fat, those hair horn things, and flapping lips made her about as appealing as a crocodile in a tutu. Still, he had a job to do, even if that Hanar ambassador seemed delicious.

All he had to do was wait for the arrival of Epsilon's chosen diplomat. Should be easy enough, they probably wouldn't send one of their genetic monstrosities over, after all it would be bad form to try and scare everyone involved shitless when everyone was trying to maintain good relations.

He heard some gasps of awe over the lines, but he chalked that up to rookies seeing Epsilon personnel for the first time up close.

What he did see however, made his testicles jump into his stomach.

Through the door came a shape that everyone in the Allied-Soviets had come to fear *intensely*, no, not the night terrors that stood next to the figure, those were just conventionally terrifying. No, no, the girl between them was what made the Dolphin want to breach the hell out of his tank and landhump his way to the nearest ship.

With white hair kept somewhat past her shoulders and burning red eyes and skin that clearly needed to see more of the sun, the figure moved in a cloaked purple and black military uniform with an expression of dispassion that could probably kill even without her legendary psychic abilities. The symbol of psicorps was prominently displayed on her outfit at the shoulders, and with a quick unclasping of the brown and purple cloak, she took her seat.

The peacekeepers and armored security dolphins acting as Clikki's guards similarly stood suddenly stock still, though the guards and Aides of the Aliens clearly didn't seem to understand the magnitude of her presence. But he caught one word "Libra." The head of Psi-corps being here meant that Epsilon was going to be taking these talks very, very seriously.

In a moment, Clikki was very glad that being underwater meant that no one could possibly see him or his aides sweat. Metaphorically anyway, Dolphins don't have sweat glands.

Once everyone's aides took their seats, Clikki spoke up with a click.

"_So, I hope everyone is properly settled in._" The Dolphin squeaked.

"_First order of business is of course, that you all agree to recognize that the Hellenia system and any other place we labeled as key to national security in the datafile we sent to you is off limits to persons from your governments and corporations registered under your government. These are incredibly important asset sto our government and we simply cannot have foreign nationals without clearance in it, clearance which none of you have or are likely to get in the foreseeable future._" Clikki said with a squeaking voice translated into a classy baritone British accent, with murmuring going across the table as ambassadors spoke with their aides, and in the Citadel's case, the ambassadors of the various member nations speaking with one another.

"_We can accept this._" Came the conclusions from the various Citadel Ambassadors in various slight variations of that message.

"_Epsilon sees no reason to object._" Libra said, ceasing her fidgeting with her fingers as she spoke with that cold voice of hers. To think she used to be a manically psychotic woman-child in the twentieth century, only to blossom into this icy flower sitting before the nervous cetacean.

"_My people would be made substantially more comfortable if both of your governments would agree to establish embassies on the Citadel for ease of correspondence._" The Ambassador for the Turian Hierarchy, some tall (even by Turian standards!) bloke named Varro Varius who had currently placed his hands in a pyramid formation that Clikki would never be able to replicate.

The enormous eyed Salarian Ambassador soon joined in with a breath-taking rapidity of words the instant he looked up from his datapad. "_Agreed, your arsenals are a cause for worry, the enigma shrouding your capabilities and intention, also problematic. Permanent embassies would be a gesture of good-will, would also suggest consulates on your capital worlds._"

"_You would have us place consulates on our worlds, but have our embassies be on this space station of yours?_" Libra said, a snowy eyebrow of hers quirking up as the girl leaned ever so slightly forward in her seat. Certainly enough to make Clikki's skin crawl.

"_Explaining the reasoning, the Citadel allows for quick contact with all of our member states and direct access to the Council; our highest diplomatic authority. Continuing elaboration, consulates on our political capitals would also be permitted, but would be there to speak to the individual governments, and not the supranational body of the Council._" The massive Elcor diplomat monotoned. A translator that put the speaker's tone or intent at the start of every sentence or somebody polite enough to do just that themselves when they spoke? May as well have told Clikki Christmas had come early.

"_That I can deal with, we'll provide you the land needed as soon as possible._" Clikki squeaked, lazily drifting back up to the surface of the tank to suck in a large volume of air through his blow hole, water spraying outwards as he breathed in and out several times. So far, nothing being proposed seemed too far out of line based on the plan set for the meeting by Clikki's superiors. That was good, and that made Clikki a happy dolphin even as he submerged.

"_We will accept this of course._" Libra said as her arms moved from the table to fold across her chest. What was going on in her mind on the other hand, was an enigma. She tilted her head slightly to the left, but soon brought it right back up with a quick snapping motion with her head.

"_Pardon this one if it would be speaking out of turn in your culture, but this one has noticed that your science is lacking in the touch of the Enkindlers._" The Hanar spoke up, it's self-echoing voice full of reverence and curiosity in equal measure, drawing the eyes of every human and cetacean in the room.

"_An Enkindler is what again?_" One of Clikki's aides asked, her voice clicking as she spoke, idly doing a roll in the water as she shifted her attention from a glowing screen submersed in their tank to the other delegates.

"_The Kahje-Clan's term for the Protheans, from whom we've adapted much of our technology. Element Zero, the Mass Effect, the Relays, the Citadel? All Prothean. We've made our own touches and adaptations, but much of the big stuff? Theirs. Most species got started in space when we examined some of their ruins and reverse engineered it. On that note, we would like for you to share any Porthean or "Hyksos" data or relics you uncover for the benefit of the galaxy as a whole._" The Volus Ambassador said, drawing Clikki's eyes to the deep voiced but positively diminuitive rotund being. The constant breathing from the Volus, Lor Hulguk, certainly didn't do much to disguise his respectful tone, even when speaking for the dead martian civilization that predated even the Prothean base.

"_Our ruins had almost nothing in terms of usable information. What the Allied-Soviets found was a badly damaged data-cache that at most regurgitated that there had been a base in the past, why they were there, and a bit on what they were. Most of what we have? Off-shoots of what we've thrown at each other or dug up in war. Plenty of fun stuff really!_" Clikki said cheerfully, trying to make his position seem as strong as possible. His government couldn't afford to look weak here, not when it was, strategically speaking, deeply outmatched. It could hurt either party, maybe, just maybe win against Epsilon, but it would lose in the long run if it came to a contest of might. No, no, he wasn't going to let it come to that.

"_Neither of us use those mass-relay things either. Didn't seem smart to poke around with them when we couldn't tell where they went. As for your ancient Aliens, I have no objections._" Clikki also said, to the approving nod of many of the Citadel ambassadors, Varius in particular seemed to appreciate the wisdom of this decision. Blindly activating relays lead to both the Rachni Wars and the Krogan Rebellions, so knowing that these humans wouldn't open the gates to some other spirits cursed menace from the ass end of the galaxy was a relief.

"_With bemused curiosity, Then why were your troops meddling with Relay 314?_" The Elcor asked, shifting very, very slightly forward, daring to cast a look over to Libra. This whole meeting was unlikely to have occured without that incident, and all parties were grateful that it did not erupt into a wider war, so any questions relating to it were definitely ones that deserved answers.

"_The vessels were scanning for dormant mirage drone ships to destroy them before they could be called in for an ambush. A disguise as...audacious...as a mass relay would not be totally out of the question._" Libra said, sighing under her breath as a face remained a mask of dispassion if not complete disinterest, her posture remaining fixed in a way that Clikki found unnerving. He was just so used to humans always fidgeting in little ways.

"_Speaking of your technology, going over the data you've sent us, we have cause to be concerned about this "Tiberium" of yours. You use it on a massive scale and I haven't seen anything with a higher capacity for environmental devastation in my time. I would ask that you offer us some samples, or at least information on it for study._" Viara said, though just about as soon as the words came out of her mouth she got a resounding "No" from both Libra and Clikki. A frown formed on her face as she got an answer she was expecting, but hoping not to hear.

"_You can have the information, sure, but we're not about to surrender that asset to you._" Clikki said emphatically, his squeaking and chirping growing stronger as he spoke. Tiberium offered so many advantages that handing any over was deemed to be out of the question under no uncertain terms by the Politburo and he couldn't imagine that the Duma of Epsilon would be any more generous. Then came the moment for Libra to raise a hand. A bit of a squeak came from the Dolphin, a short and rapid backstroke of the tail pushed it backwards through the water and away from her.

"_In recompense for those who have died in your attack on our assets, we would wish to advance our desires for your technology. We are most interested in your "mass effect" technology and would ask for schematics, information, and examples of your faster than light communications and travel technology, as well as your hyper-dense materials. We will in turn, decline to ask for monetary reparations. Is this a fair trade to you?_" She said, pushing her head very slowly forward until it rested on the finger bridge she had set up with her now propped up arms.

"_My people could abide by this, agreed. We will ship what you need as soon as possible._" Varro said, pleasantly surprised by the lack of demand for financial compensation. Though to Clikki, it may just have been that the crew were all vat-grown clones; and thus didn't have any family to have reparations paid to.

Damn, now Clikki was going to have to find some leverage to get some of that tech immediately rather than wait for ASBCIN or the market to obtain it, the dolphin thought as he snapped his jaws in frustration. "We of course, are going to ask for the same thing, but we'll offer you something back. Our non-Tiberium based refinement and manufacturing tech should do it for you, no?" He offered, swimming right up to the edge of the tank and peering through it's transparent walls, opening up his jaw in a facsimile of a smile to make himself seem as friendly as possible.

Ignoring Libra's glaring at him, he soon got the answer he wanted. "That's more than reasonable, of course we'll agree." The Asari said for them, and with that, Clikki was definitely relieved. There wasn't too much the Politburo was willing to trade, and so long as the Citadel could be kept friendly, the risks of offering them that seemed to be more than worth it. Hell Clikki was so pleased that if the ceiling were high enough to allow for it he would have probably jumped out and did a flip for them!

"_Now, my clan has drafted up these economic trade treaties that I feel we should all discuss immediately._" The Volus said with relish as he brought out a datapad full of trade pacts he hoped to turn into proper agreements. Oh damn, this was going to take a while.

* * *

><p>Codex entries:<p>

Polities: Federal Epsilon Dominion;

Considered the foremost human power, the Epsilon Dominion has the honor of holding Earth and has held it since the late twentieth century, and later came to hold the entire Solar system by the 2050s. Once an elite research division within the Soviet Union, Yuri has long since broken ties with his former government. Once thought defeated in his bid for hegemony for humanity by the Allies and Soviets, Yuri returned and managed to attain military victory, resulting in the forced withdrawal of both of his former enemies to the planet Mars.

Several further wars established Epsilon as the sovereign of the Earth, and with the withdrawal of the Allied-Soviets, of the Solar System as a whole. While Epsilon is seen in a negative light by many, it has continued to remain a stable government for centuries and citizens report a high rate of happiness, and it's policies are highly egalitarian and immigrant friendly. However, Epsilon's massive military has also been the cause of concern and innumerable technothrillers of dubious quality. Due to a heavy usage of cloning and vat grown creations it is difficult to truly ascertain Epsilon's population.

Epsilon has multiple capitals. It's religious capital is placed in Sarajevo, it's political capital of Cluj-Napoca is based in Transylvania, it's official financial capital is placed in Moscow, and it's official cultural capital is placed in Constantinople. All four are considered sites of great human cultural heritage, and Epsilon takes much pride in "watching over humanity's history", to the chagrin of the Allied-Soviets. Both the Allied-Soviets and Epsilon share the Lingua Francas of Russian and English.

Epsilon's government is considered to be a technocracy with oligarchic and religious bents. Those in power wield a great deal of it, but there is a tremendous deal of pressure from above to ensure their continuing competence lest they be faced with summary dismissal and shame for failing the expectations of Yuri. It remains a matter of debate as to how free and fair the government of the Dominion is, though proponents of secular government take issue to the existence of an official and heavily promoted state religion.

Polities: Alliance of Soviet Social Democratic Nations;

A merger of the once opposed blocs of the World Socialist Alliance and the Alliance of Democratic Nations, the Alliance of Soviet Social Democratic nations has long forgotten the former rivalry of it's constituent members, instead directing their animosity towards the Epsilon Dominion as part of a grudge that spans centuries. Priding itself as the combination of the best traits of the Allies and the Soviets, the Allied-Soviets have taken quite well to being exiles from their home.

Once based off of Mars; the fourth world in humanity's native solar system, the Allied-Soviets are now based on the world of Terra Novum, which they have extensively settled over the course of three hundred years as the heart of their network of colonies. It is here where the federal government of the Allied-Soviets rests, where cases requiring the attentions of the highest courts are overseen, where the executive branch of the government presides, and where the legislature gathers to vote.

The Allied-Soviet government typically has something of a cavalier attitude to politics and works to promote it's values of freedom, equality, and justice across the galaxy. Oligarchies and Autocracies are seen with distaste at best, and outright loathing at worst on the simple principle that they are not accountable to the people. In spite of this, the Allied-Soviets have taken care to establish friendly relations with the Citadel, believing the Council to be an icon of their Democratic ideals.

Being the smaller human polity by a good margin, the Allied-Soviets have taken care to ensure that they never seem too weak to defend themselves, and as such have invested in a massive and powerful military as well as an enormous amount of money into the pursuit of more advanced technology and developed infrastructure. The primary languages of the Allied-Soviets are English and Russian, though other languages are also spoken within it.

Polities: Forgotten Mutant Confederacy;

The Forgotten are a loose confederation of Tiberium afflicted humans formed in the early twenty first century (by human reckoning) who have chosen to exile themselves out of a belief that proper society has forgotten them or that society rejects them. Existing between Epsilon and the Allied-Soviets has taught the Forgotten that their status as an independent policy is dependent on their ability to play off larger powers and ensure that they possess enough strength of their own to make forceful assimilation a painful prospect.

While certainly lacking in infrastructure and technology compared to the "big two", the Forgotten Confederacy is tenacious and resourceful and is a master of guerrilla tactics as well as scavenging and looting. In addition, the Forgotten are an extremely hardy people and typically far exceed the standard human physically speaking. This has resulted in them being quite popular as mercenaries or allies in both the historical conflicts of the Allied-Soviets and Epsilon and later on as they integrated in galactic society.

While the official line of the Forgotten Confederacy's leaders is that they wish peace, a number of Forgotten believe that the time has come for the Forgotten to themselves hold a great and powerful empire. These terrorist groups ironically often find common cause with supremacist groups of other nations as well as various warbands and petty nations found throughout the Terminus systems. Ever since the Forgotten's introduction to galactic society they have been a cause for much grief.

As per multilateral agreements, the Forgotten Confederacy is regarded as it's own independent nation with it's own colonies and is frequently granted reserves on other worlds, though typically in Tiberium contaminated areas. The Forgotten have developed their own private language, but nearly all are multi-lingual. The Confederacy is regarded as something of a curiosity in politics and has drawn sympathy from the Quarian fleets and Krogan.

Synthetics: NEXUS;

NEXUS is the designation for a Human built rogue A.I that began an Organic-Synthetic war in the second half of the second human interplanetary war after assessing that the only way to resolve the conflict was to take control of humanity itself. Defeated by an alliance of the human polities, NEXUS withdrew itself and it's remaining forces into the void of space with primitive Chrono-jumpers and Heisenberg drives and has not been seen since.

Whereas the Morning War left the Quarians with a deep seated fear and hatred for Synthetics, the "Robot Storm", has not had the same effect on humanity. The typical opinion is that NEXUS was simply defective and since their later efforts into computer science have not lead to a repeat of the Robot Storm, they feel vindicated by their decision. Nevertheless, NEXUS has lead to generally more cautious ventures into the field of Computer Science in it's wake.

Following the revelation of it's existence, the Citadel has been on a look out for traces of NEXUS, however it's ability to travel extensively beyond the Relay network and the sheer scale of the Galaxy means that it is possible that no encounters with NEXUS will be recorded for thousands of years to come. It is also possible that in the intervening years, the A.I and it's creations have either had a redress of priorities or finally met their doom.

Nevertheless, it is still considered unwise to be completely unprepared for a possible return of the rogue synthetics and it is believed that there are contingency plans in place to deal with it should it make itself apparent once again. Any further information that does not date back to the second interplanetary war is however, almost entirely speculative, making discussions on the present of the A.I extremely difficult.

Species: Scrin;

An enigmatic species known only for it's devastating invasion of the Solar system in the third interplanetary war, the Scrin have not appeared since and speculation on their full capabilities and motivations continues largely unabated. What is known is their lack of effort in attempting to communicate with the Solar System's polities, their mastery of psionics, directed energy weapons, and Tiberium; as well as their complete lack of Eezo based technology.

What is also known is their role in the destruction of the Pre-Prothean Martian Civilization known as the Hyksos, who constructed the Tacitus as a manual on how to battle against the Scrin that sought their extinction as well as the Tiberium they spread. Finally, efforts at studying the Scrin focus heavily on trying to understand the pair of enormous towers they left in the Solar System in the River Tiber and on Olympus Mons. Due to being nestled deep within the least inhabitable portions of Earth and Mars, studying them is intensely difficult. Furthermore, the Towers have proven to be invulnerable to all effects.

Dating of the Tacituses and Hyksos relics confirms that the Scrin are at the very least, millions of years old as a recognizable entity. This has lead to lead many to speculate that the force that caused so much devastation to the Earth was not in fact, a military invasion force, as a truly serious strike force most likely would have the technological capacity to trivially eradicate humanity. That the earthborn nations were nearly brought to their knees by this force in any case is considered a cause for disquiet.

Due to their psychic abilities, the consensus among those interested in the subject is that the Scrin utilize a hive mind rather than any conventional form of language. Somewhat akin to, but not precisely the Rachni. Like the Rachni, the Scrin showed arthropodal morphological traits, though it is considered tremendously difficult to tell what is truly Scrin and what is merely machine.

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><p>Author's notes: You thought I was going to go the cliche'd route of having a First contact war at all, didn't you?<p> 


	3. Frostburn

_Planet Dracul, 3rd of June, 2367, thirty years post contact._

Anton Cioban examined the information presented to him by the terminal. All readings so far indicated normalcy. Given the nature of the work at the Giorgi biological research plant, that was good. Headquarters got testy when resource grants were wasted upon failure and mediocrity with no further development apparent down the pipeline, and Anton had no intention of failing to live up to expectations.

He looked to one of his colleagues, a big bearded fellow who seemed almost too large for his lab gear, and then spoke up. "Grigor, could you test the thought inhibitor?" Anton asked, giving the larger man a datapad with some stored files.

"_Yes of course. Is it acting up?_" He asked as he shifted his gaze from his colleague to the datapad.

"_Unfortunately._" Anton sighed, briefly placing a hand on the right side of his face and shaking his head as an expression of exasperation.

"_It's still growing, give it time, and I'm sure it will calm down._" Grigor said, slapping Anton on the lowermost part of his left shoulder and causing him to jolt forward a step or two while he felt the sting of a thousand bees ride up his back.

Control your god damn arm. Anton cursed beneath his breath as he checked the instrumentation again before looking at the feeds into the chamber where they were growing their newest project. An attempt at creating a new sapient species for combat, one that would help cement Epsilon's position in the universe.

Covered in a carapace of varying shades of grey, lighter on the bottom and darker on the top, the creature had an angular; stealth bomber like appearance which were only enhanced by it's vast set of wings. A hooked beak was flanked by a pair of lower mandibles; meant to provide extreme bite strength, and it's compound eyes were aligned in a long strip across it's armoured head. Including it's wings, it had eight limbs, all slender but possessed of powerful musculature, densified and enhanced by careful application of Tiberium, two large limbs ended in scythe like grabbing appendages while two smaller manipulator arms had clawed hands. A long, skeletal tail dragged out from behind, ending in a wicked scythed spike.

About the mass of a fair sized dinosaur at ten tons with a wingspan longer than most whales were from head to tail were from head to tail, the creature seemed to regard the cameras with clear distaste. A sense of the thing staring right at him through the cameras was unshakeable, it's baleful gaze and dreadful clicking seeming to intensify.

He could scarcely imagine what it went through in the testing. Constant recalibrations of infusions, psychic neuralization, forcible biotic implantations, constant updates for it's psychic implants. Well, now it was time for new implants. He would need a long night with his wife and daughter to forget what he was about to do, and he shut his eyes as the process began.

As the process began through the walls of the facility and as the hours rolled by, he could hear it's anguish. A cry quite unlike anything he had ever heard, an ululating, low warbling shriek of pain, one that only faded when it was subdued, and one that picked right back up as it began to awake to post-surgical soreness. And sometimes, he could swear he heard it calling his name.

With the hours past, he prepared to head home, Catalina and Anastasia were waiting for him. He had plans to drown his angst with a healthy supply of alcohol and a warm bed. As he walked his way to the entrance of the facility, he saw a figure in black and green armor of a make that he couldn't identify, the emblem of a black spiked skull flanked by two lightning bolts while a black skeletal hand reached for it; all laid into a green octagon, a helm that seemed ever so vaguely reminiscent of a blank face ribbed with vents on the cheek area capped with a stahlhelm, with a leering corpse green T-visor staring out at the world. On the shoulders stood green hexagons with crossed black daggers at their center.

A brief moment passed as he stared at the figure. He didn't recognize the armor, or any of the symbology. What he did know, was that it was not authorized, and he was certainly not able to take it on in combat. It rippled with a cloaking device and disappeared, leaving Anton scrambling to activate the alarm with a mental command. But it seemed the wraithlike figure was faster with pushing a button.

Before the thought could be completed, his world was filled with smoke, fire, and noise. A series of thundrous blasts ripped through the facility, and when he finally regained control of his senses he found that his view had dropped several feet and tilted sideways, leaving him to stare up at the figure who had reappeared, almost as if to taunt him. He tried to push himself up, but the wraith stepped over him and walked out of sight just before a flood of mutants and Terminus raiders appeared.

The emblems on the mutants he finally recognized, Crystal's Fury...the howling aliens they brought in, blood pack.

A number of initiates filed in, bringing focusing carbines to send forth their pyrokinetic bursts towards the intruders, three of the forgotten went down; burnt to cinders, screaming for a brief moment, making a few motions of running before dropping to the ground as charred corpses that reeked of a vaguely pork-like smell.

In an earlier age the Krogan taking point would have used a light machine gun firing mass accelerator rounds. In this modern age however, he used a particle casting version of the same. Spectacular streaks of energy licked out as heat resistant vorcha helped him take aim, some dying, some initiates already falling to the fire, but the initiates soon learned to bow to the Krogan as one was sliced in half; his upper torso going flying while his legs flopped to the ground steaming, another's head burst as soon as his shields and armor failed, a body with nothing but a charred stump slumping over deployable low cover panels, a third had holes torn through her that definitely signaled the end of her life.

The Krogan sniffed the air before looking down at Anton, who was currently doing his very best to play dead.

"_This Pyjak's still breathing._" The Krogan snarled as he kicked the scientist in the side while the forgotten terrorists gathered around, assuming positions to ensure that all was clear before advancing.

"_He's a scientist, take him, we need him to release the creature. I don't want him hurt anymore than he has to be or I swear I am docking your pay._" One of the hooded mutants hissed at the Krogan who snorted.

"_Fine by me._" The Krogan snorted as he had one of the Vorcha heft up the terrified scientist while accompanying Varren; some showing clear signs of Tiberium alteration, soon followed up to their masters, snarling at the Tiberium fiends the Mutants had brought along for much the same purpose.

"_Get your asses in gear, we've got payday waiting for us!_" The Krogan warlord shouted, and finally, now in some control of his senses, Anton was able to see some tiberium growth on the Krogan, which would explain his greater size and the ease with which he held that heavy machine gun equivalent proton gun. So much for the Tiberium embargo, he thought as more mercenaries and terrorists flowed into the building like ants invading a termite nest.

* * *

><p>Warlord Virog liked his new gun. Particle casters were still something of a rarity, expensive too, but he bet his hide that they'd become the standard soon enough, even as Mass Accelerator rifles continued to advance and new exciting weapons flooded the market. Anything that could let him mow down enemies better made him a very happy Krogan to say the least.<p>

He and a bunch of other mercs were being paid good money to storm this facility. Not just money, he reminded himself, but Tiberium too. Tib fetched excellent prices, and was incredibly useful even if you didn't sell it anyway.

He was brought out of his musings by a storm of railgun fire from the gatling weapon of a harpoon, forcing him to take cover as the genetically altered armoured freak of a cyborg stood tall, gargling angrily as more jump jet using initiates quickly blasted up onto high vantage points while more cover panels unfurled.

Rage gas grenades were thrown into the area, he quickly barked an order to pull back. "Get out of there, Biotics I need you to push that crap back!" He shouted through his helmet as he took any cover he could from the withering barrage of rounds from the Harpoon's roaring weapon.

He needed only see one of the Crystal's Fury terrorists start firing into his own units to know that an adept level telepath had also entered the fray. One of the Biotics unfortunately he scowled as he popped up long enough to make some shots at the Epsilon guards, ducking right back down when the Harpoon turned the sweep of it's gatling cannon right at him.

Damn, he had to respect firepower like that. Not respecting that kind of firepower would get him killed, and while he was certainly no bedwetting Pyjak, he rather liked living.

He threw a fusion grenade bought from the allied-soviets, hurling the miniature nuclear device over his head and throwing himself to the ground when the whump of the shockwave and roar of the blast cut through the already roaring noise of the room, he looked up and the Harpoon was gone and the Adept was busy collecting his senses, just long enough for the Krogan to chop him down with his heavy particle caster, he heard a scream and the squelch of flesh being crushed into a pulp even as it was flung about in all directions and charred beyond recognition, hissing all the while.

"_Did our friend turn off their defense turrets?_" He asked over the commlinks as he advanced through the now cleared room, taking a right just as the very thorough map he had acquired from his employers directed him to.

"_Yes Warlord. What do you plan on bringing in? Gunships?_" Came in the reply as the krogan grinned, evil thoughts rapidly forming in his mind.

"_You think too small. I want a drop of tank company Wrecker one klick from my position due north by north east, and yes, bring in the gunships._" He grinned viciously as the forgotten kicked in another door, letting out a spray of weapons fire into the room to suppress the telekinetic adept they almost immediately ran into.

He instinctively threw himself to the side, hearing barriers collapse and bodily tissue getting obliterated as a series of forgotten were torn apart by a hellstorm of metal shards hurled by the adept while the distinctive "deewp" sound of initiates letting loose pyrokinetic bursts began to fill his ears.

"_Flank their positions damn it or I will eat your fucking heads off._" He shouted at the Vorcha under his command as he threw in some grenades to get the defenders to recoil at least somewhat, if only for a moment. His instincts buzzed and he dashed as far away from the door as possible, leaving the wide open door behind him as a miniature sun's worth of glowing green starflare plasma exploded and incinerated the Vorcha, Humans, Mechs, and assorted terrorists, pirates, and mercs who were just standing there moments ago.

"_Damn, they've got a night terror._" He grumbled, gritting his teeth as the facility shook with heavy mass accelerator fire.

"_Aww yeah, now that's what I'm talking about._" He whooped as a trio of heavy rounds slammed into the building, if he read the plans right, they might even be able to provide some indoors support in some places. That made him giddy, ah the destruction they'd wreak.

The launch of another plasma blast quickly snapped him out of his musings and informed him of the need to find a better spot to push his advance through.

"_Where's those flankers I asked for?_" He snarled into his commlinks as heavy footsteps informed him that the creature with it's support had emerged to start a sweep maneuver; it's gatling cannon revving up and letting loose the storm, his ears once again being assaulted in the moments before his helmets' compensators kicked in.

"_I need reinforcements, now you lazy whoresons!_" He roared into the comms as his cover rapidly disintegrated under the fire of the nightmare, but even through all the noise of battle he was able to tell when a plasma cannon was being charged.

And as if to answer his summons, a tank smashed straight through the wall, dozens of tons of steel and fury dragged it's turret as the initiates fell back in good order, feeling the stinging attentions of hastily added particle casters mounted on the sleek, angular vehicle while the nightmare bellowed his challenge.

He had heard stories of the prowess of nightmares, but he never quite imagined that a Turian made MX-731 Mawblade tank would be reeling from a direct hit from a starflare cannon, nor that the thing would actually start walking towards the vehicle, the antares cannon on it's back slowly raising itself into position as it gurgled incomprehensibly beneath it's thick suit of armor. After doing a brief spin from a glancing shot to the shoulder by the main gun of the tank that caused quite the score into the pauldron as it slid off, the thing decided to charge in, enormous pincers on it's suit seeming all too noticeable now.

Crystal's Fury terrorists frantically scampered back, firing away with their mass accelerator rifles; having had difficulty acquiring particle casters or directed energy weapons of which their fire was punctuated with but a smattering of such weapons. Some grenade launchers made themselves known on the hide of the nightmare, but the initiates guarding them accounted well for themselves as the Telekine adepts crushed more than a few forgotten into pulp with but a squeezing action of their minds. Even more ground was lost to them when the harpoons came roaring in with gatling weapons, forcing them into cover while Biotics tried to bring up shields to slow down the counter-offensive from Epsilon.

The results of the clash between monster and machine were obscured to him as a dream weaver's clicking behind him made him acutely aware as to it's presence. Like organic terror drones, the creatures scuttled forward to him, clicking and buzzing as they oozed rage gas out of their pores. Yet more initiates followed behind them, lead by a trio of electrokine adepts whose streaking arcs of Thor's fury zapped him to the ground, twitching as stars danced behind his eyes while the dream-weavers rushed forward to draw fire from those members of his group that survived.

Most would have probably been killed outright by the lightning he received, but he was a old, strong Krogan who had willingly infused himself with Tiberium, his armorsuit had a good combination of insulatives and conductors in the right place in the anticipation of having to face tesla weaponry, and he had placed on some magnetic shield projectors to bolster his defense. As Varrens and Fiends sought to jump on and claw at the five meter night terror as it started tearing into the tank, he picked himself up, not even flinching as several vorcha and mutants were burned to ash by the adepts and initiates. He didn't even blink as a Krogan was torn apart by the dream-weavers.

No fear was displayed when he dived for a missile launcher dropped by one of the dead vorcha, hoisted it up, and loaded a fresh warhead. Not even when the tank that had driven into the wide open hallway was finally crushed by the victorious night terror did he show any hint of being scared. Rather, he pulled the trigger and let loose a warhead, reveling as it exploded among the adepts with a fusion warhead and cleared a large path through it's scouring nuclear flames. Oh he had to duck back under cover alright, but now the way was clear for him to trudge on by while the Crystal's Fury terrorists rallied with renewed support from the Blood Pack and fresh troops coming in from the entrances.

He turned around to let loose with his particle beam caster, laughing raucuously as enemies were mowed down by his beloved gun. Violence and noise swirled around him, snipers sought to add their instrument to the cacophany just as heavy weapons fire was traded. Bodies hit the floor, filled with holes, charred, torn apart, flensed, crushed, or otherwise mutilated in a supremely intense fire-fight. A harpoon went down, consumed by a biotic warp that violently ripped the specially crafted supersoldier to pieces and finally silencing it's lethal gatling gun. A Krogan was struck by a virus round from a sniper, and gagged before exploding into toxic green gas.

Initiates struck by shotgun fire from charging mutants went down with bloody, pulpy holes in their chest after repeated fire, only for the mutants to burn from unfolding antares thermal wave turrets disconnected from the external defense grid, the lucky ones flash frying into cinders and the unlucky ones screaming as they flailed and cooked in the heat of fires leaping across their body. Varren and Fiends that had sought to pull down the night-terror found themselves faced with dream-weavers as the armored colossus swept it's fire across the room, the defeated hulk of the tank lying in smoking ruin while antares blasts, plasma spheres, and gatling guns made their presences unmissable.

Soldiers turned upon each other, guided by the will of Telepaths, though to Virog's annoyance the Telepaths Epsilon had were just more numerous and flat out better, forcing him to devote snipers to taking them down whenever they made their presences known. But numbers were on Virog's side. By the time grotesquely mutated and hugely muscular brutes and archers started to make themselves known, the Epsilon guard forces were losing. The night-terror had gone down, focused down by anti-tank fire, biotics, and psychics until it finally tumbled down and ceased to breathe due to multiple holes ripped through it's body and the fire of two more of Virog's tanks smashing into the hallway.

The archers, while certainly unusual due to their reliance on seemingly outdated technology, and certainly responsible for their fair share of havoc with their variable warhead superheated bolts that incinerated many an asset, had come too little, too late to change the tide and went down in time. The brutes, while fierce, were not capable of averting defeat for the security forces. And with the commander at the helm of their EVA system having already been dealt with by their wraith-like friend, the coordination of the security forces slowly began to disintegrate.

Rushing forward and bellowing his battle cry, Virog had switched to a massive shotgun, a six gauge by human reckoning, but entirely manageable for the mutant krogan. And when it spoke, it spoke with the kind of voice that let him turn men into meaty chunks and bits of armor and uniform, and the kind that was most assuredly welcome for it's ability to give pause to even brutes.

When he came face to face with a brute, he was quick to get out his battlehammer, deeming the action too close for the shotgun. The huge, hulking mass of muscle made the first step, roaring as it swung a fist at him, making him try to do his best to roll with the hit, stumbling to the left to get some range to get a good swing going with his weapon. The brute staggered, stumbled, but brought his fists down for a double hammer fist that made his shields flare with effort.

A kick to the face similarly made Virog stumble backwards, reeling from the blow, but he brought his hammer down again, smashing the brute back and setting the grey skinned beast up for a leftward blow to the head, more than enough to daze and dizzy it as he finally got enough space to bring out his shotgun and unload an automatic clip into the beast. Though the genetically engineered monster stood for a while due to shields and sheer toughness, soon it went down in bloody pieces and Virog could rejoin the rest of the fight.

After five more minutes of intense struggle, the fighting finally stopped. No more forces loyal to Yuri were throwing themselves at them, though he respected their ability to make him pay for every millimeter of advance in blood. He would have loved to remove his helmet to take in a whiff of that blood filled air, but he knew the risks of going barefaced in an arena that had just seen the kind of chemical warfare filled contest they had.

"_Get some explosives on that door, I want it breached yesterday!_" He shouted, looking through his HUD to see who was still left. Casualty rates were high, but nothing he wasn't expecting. Good, those who made it out of this would be stronger for what they've just gone through.

"_Where's the scientist? Is he still breathing?_" Virog snarled as he stepped out of the way of the krogan packing the detonation charges.

"_Yes Warlord, we've kept him out of the firefight._" One of the Vorcha snarled, almost barking at the Krogan through the comms Feh, he'd need a clubbing on the head for that tone, Virog thought as he made a mental note.

"_Our catch isn't much farther away according to this map, just one more hall way that our friend should have cleared for us._" Virog said, bringing up the map on his omnitool so that everyone could see how close they were to their objective, relishing in the excitement his soldiers were displaying.

Some echoes of combat continued to reach his ears, probably other groups of soldiers drawing away the guards he thought. His troops, he thought with pride. The other merc companies hired decided to take the longer, safer routes, but it seemed to him that their gamble hadn't paid off. The roar and snap of breaching charges assaulted his senses once again, but with the hole in the door now available, he was able to just walk through and take a short path through the hallway that followed.

A number of guards were seen, thoroughly dead via exotic weapons fire, leaving their corpses to decorate the room with all manners of bits and pieces of them missing. Almost certainly their wraithlike friend's doing.

The final door was already opened, and before them stood the chamber where the fruit of project Biomagus' labor was observed and administered from. The armoured black and green figure of the mysterious wraith awaited them, giving a subtle nod to the scientist and the console with which he had conducted many an operation on the bizarre creature seen on the view screens. So many lights, panels, screens, projectors and interfaces, all displaying data that Virog honestly wasn't interested in. All he cared about was the creature, and the bonus he'd get for being the first one to obtain it.

"_Now, either you can do this for us and I let you go, or I'm going to have to have one of the telepaths rip the information from you, and I start remembering how useful a pet scientist can be._"

"_You can't expect me t-to turn my back on Yuri! If I were to do this, I would be a dead man anyway!_" Anton protested, drawing a scoff from the krogan warlord before he motioned in over one of the surviving telepaths.

"_How little you must value your family. To deprive them of you because of your belief in the cause._" The wraith finally spoke in a professional, chilling voice as it flipped through his personnel data files, that spine tingling voice modulated through his helmet as the telepath started tearing into his mind, picking his brain to find what they needed.

"_But what you forget, is that if you do not devote yourself to the right cause, the cause will show it's lack of devotion to you._" The Wraith said as the Telepath, upon receiving what it needed to know, the Vorcha forced his hand onto the biometric scanner and implemented the command lines needed to start releasing the creature, who almost immediately exalted in seeing the doors of it's cage opening with a series of ululating clicks synchronized with the most unearthly roar imaginable as it stampeded out of the facility.

"_All troops, pull out to the ships and get ready to collect the package. We've got what we came for._" Virog ordered as the wraith regarded Anton closely.

"_Let us see what your creation thinks of you, shall we?_"

"_Hey, I want him working for me, you hear?_" Virog said, glowering at the Wraith.

"_Epsilon has what it takes to preserve his brain. The rest of him is not necessary._" He responded, prompting an evil grin to form beneath Virog's helmet as he produced one of the brain preservation kits, a jar filled with special solution and numerous tools for the extraction of the cerebrum, a grin that widened when Anton's moan of terror was heard. Soon, they had pushed the man out into the fields outside the facility, where the creature had emerged into the open, it's terrifying frame snarling and baying when it's ears caught wind of the name of the one it came to hate.

With a few tremendous steps, the six and a half meter tall creature had closed the distance to cioban and made him very aware of how big it's jaws were. It's hot breath lashed at him and prompted all those who felt it to step well back away from the monstrous winged abomination as it leered directly at Cioban.

"_You...are...Cioban._" It said in a voice like the rumble of a volcano, it's mandibles clicking onto it's lower jaw as it came within mere centimeters from just biting him in half where he stood.

A terrified squeak was all Anton could answer with. What went through his mind besides all consuming terror, was how it learned how to speak.

"_You caused me...pain...suffering. But I heard your words...your noisey electric buzzing and sound...and I learned...I learned more than what you wished. And I learned...to hate you._" It said, finishing it's last sentence with as much menace as possible as it reared it's head back, seemingly ready to deliver the killing blow.

"_We'll give him to you, just save the head will you?_" Virog asked of it, not even flinching from the massively larger organism.

"_We ask that you join us, mighty behemoth! Help us smite the foes of the forgotten, so that our name will be remembered!_" The mutant in the most ostentatious armor around said, throwing his hands apart and shouting at the monstrous thing.

"_Pah, would you work with those Wimps? Why not join us, we've got real firepower and a place for something like you._" Virog countered, sensing an opportunity in the engineered monster.

"_We had a deal Krogan, the beast is ours!_" The Forgotten shouted indignantly.

"_You can have anything that we leave behind, but this one's got promise._" He said, stepping forward to edge himself closer to the monster.

"_I am...no one's...but I will be willing to hear an...offer._" It said, it's words somewhat halting as it was still new to vocalizing them through it's throat.

"_You hate Cioban. I can offer you the information to make him hurt more than if you just kill him._ " The Wraith interjected, drawing the attentions of all three other speakers, each of them swiveling their heads towards the figure bearing the mark of the black hand.

It brought out a projection, a map with their current location highlighted, and another location not too far away similarly marked. A marking that made Anton shiver.

"_His family._" The wraith offered as the engineered monster clicked it's mandibles as it brought it's head close to the wraith. The being studied the image closely, mentally plotting a course through skills implanted into it's brain. Yes, this would do for the creature, Virog could tell, he had a knack for telling when others were plotting. A quick lunge of it's head was enough to bring it's jaws to a position to snap Anton in half.

Virog didn't flinch like many of the mutants did, he actually smiled as the thing scooped up his legs and snapped it's beaked jaw shut, the crunch of bones shearing and wet squelch of flesh giving way being drowned out by screams of pain and the sound of the two halves of it's chitinous head slamming together before it took to the air with a jump and powerful beats of it's wings, letting him bleed out with full knowledge of what was to come.

* * *

><p><em>Minutes later, Cioban household<em>

Catalina was resting peacefully in bed. Dad worked late most of the time, so the seven year old was entirely used to him not being around much. The sound of people talking below soon alerted her to people sharing the house with herself and her mother however, and she quickly puthlled herself out of her bed in response to this reverie. Knowing that her mother was a stickler for making sure that her daughter was always presentable, she took the time to quickly brush her hair and teeth, keeping her silver hair; a product of her parents' choice rather than genes, neat and bundling it in a pony tail. The red eyed girl happily went down the stairs and shushed her pet when the somewhat reptilian creature started to show it's excitement at the arrival of a familiar scent.

Looking into her home's living room, she was met with her mother and her brother sitting together and having a chat while some arbiters helped themselves to the snacks she left for them. Uncle Dimitri was an Arbiter-Proselyte, making sure that everyone was safe and that law-breakers got their due. It seemed like a nice job, but Catalina wanted to be an inquisitor when she grew up, it seemed like a much more fun thing to do than police work!

"_How is Anton?_" Dimitri asked, the coat hanger physiqued man clasping his hands together and offering Anastasia a pleasant smile.

"_Anton is quite busy as of late, Headquarters really wants to see his project's prototype this year so he's been needed to work long hours._" She responded, tilting her head ever so slightly to the left and offering him a smile in return, much more muted in comparison to his to be sure, but it made her face light up all the same.

"_The bastard needs to relax more often I think! He's going to kill himself with his work someday._" Dimitri chuckled as he took a sip from his tea cup, rubbing his chin almost immediately after finishing.

"_True enough. I'm hoping he'll take his vacation weeks sooner than later._" She sighed, slouching slightly in her chair before she noticed Catalina in the distance, looking through the railings of the stairs.

"_Catalina, what are you doing up?_" She asked just as Dimitri turned his head around to Catalina and let out a hearty laugh.

"_Caty! How are you?_" He said, throwing his arms wide as he picked himself out of his chair, giving his niece the biggest smile he could.

"_God how you've grown!_" He said enthusiastically as Catalina dared to step forward, looking around the room before breaking into a short run into his arms, where she was quickly picked up and spun around by the joyful figure. Laughs were shared and hair was ruffled by knuckles before she was placed back on the ground.

"_Where have you been?_" Catalina asked, eyes wide and smile bright.

"_Ah I've been doing my work, seeing that all the crooks are put where they belong and the people are safe._" He said with a grin, placing his hands on his hips and positively beaming, to the chortling of Anastasia and the concerned looks of his operatives.

"_Did you catch anyone Uncle?_" Catalina said, looked up at him with a gaze filled with wonder, a small smile creeping onto his face.

"_Ah yes of course. I recently caught Phantom Syndicate drug dealing operations red handed. The Syndicate is denying all ties of course, but I've managed to put some in prison. I'll let the inquisition take over from there._" He said , patting her on the head after he was done speaking.

"_Anything else Uncle?_" She said before noticing a heavy thump on the ground that briefly made everything in the room jolt.

"_What was that?_" She asked before freezing just as she heard her pet snarling, yapping and hissing at something she couldn't see.

"_Merdag, please be quiet!_" Catalina shouted up at the four limbed pet as it continuously made noise at some unseen aggressor.

Then came another "THUMP" followed by low humming sound followed in turn by the whiplash of a shockwave that forcefully shut down all power to that which received it and blew in the windows. Shrieks were heard from Catalina, short sharp screams of fear as glass blew into the room. Brief murmuring went throughout the room as the occupants of the house wildly theorized as to the cause of the sudden loss of power and the sounds.

"_Catalina, get Merdag please._" Anastasia ordered, and to her tremendous relief; Catalina quickly went up to get the animal. Relief that was vindicated when the silence was cut by a trilling series of clicks and an ululating roar. Then came the screaming of the neighbours. Then the roof caved in as an impossible sight made itself very apparent.

A click filled roar was heard, a sound intermixed with the howled snarl of her family name as it began tearing open the house, shrugging off the almost immediate pyrokinetic flames that erupted across it's carapace, mandibles on the lower jaw splaying themselves outwards as it focused on one of the arbiters for a brief moment, after which he, as if on cue, imploded with a horrific combination of screaming that was quickly replaced by wet squelching, metal bending and snapping, ceramics shattering, and bones crunching. The other arbiters in the room fell to the same trick soon afterwards, and in an instant Dmitri forced Anastasia down as the monster continued to tear open the house.

"**_Come out!_**" It snarled in a voice that no human throat could have uttered, a voice that made the room shake and quiver with it's all too apparent anger and rage. There was the roar of noise as Dmitri forced himself up and telekinetically launched a couch at the creature, pinging against its shielding and drawing forth a hateful snarl from the monstrosity.

Catalina squealed with terror and fright as she tried to hide anywhere she could, anywhere that wouldn't bring her under the blazing red gaze of the behemothic monster that had assailed her household. Noise overwhelmed her, fear sank into her very bones as more of the house started to crumble from the creature's flailings. She dared to take a look, a mistake if she ever made one.

Sweeping up dmitri in its clawed manipulator limbs, it flinched from rail pistol slugs to the head that brought up it's barriers. It flinched yes, but it showed no other signs of pain as it roared back at his final words of defiance. "_I die for Yuri!_" Dmitri shouted, only to be met with. "**_You die for nothing!_**" as it's other arm grabbed him at the upper body. A twisting motion was made, the terrible sound of bones cracking and flesh rupturing was heard, then came the pull. A spray of blood and organs that instinctively made her dinner want to escape through her throat decorated the room.

A terrifying roar of victory was made as it finally turned to Anastasia and opened it's mouth. To its shock however, she had stopped whining with fear. She instead, store down the creature in as dignified a posture as she could. Covered in blood, her expression hardened as she spread her arms wide. No matter, a spray of liquid rushed forth, followed by a click in the back of throat that made the spray erupt into a brilliant geyser of flames that reduced her to ash where she had stood.

As flammables combusted and anything that could explode did, it lurched its head up towards the night sky, roaring its triumph to the world. Then it turned towards the last remaining target. It smelled the air, its mind probed for thoughts, and it turned its head right towards the quivering catalina on the upper level of the house. Its mind began to work, but it never got the chance.

Alerted by the sudden power outages and the reports of frightened neighbors as well as the word of traveling Quarian merchants, the Arbiters had brought in the colonial guard, diverting forces meant to deal with the sudden pirate and mercenary raid. Mass driver fire from would be Quarian converts to epsilonism smacked into the things back, eliciting a quick turn and a hateful roar. Arbiter fire soon followed, then came a full platoon of gatling tanks that made their opinion on the matter very clear. In a panic, it drove it's biotic and psychic power entirely towards it's own defense and quickly released a disabling pulse to buy it enough time to pick itself off the ground and escape.

A horrible wail went through the air as slugs followed it's path, but soon the beast was gone, and Catalina was left alone. Alone, the fear took time to subside, even as the Arbiters filed into the site and telekines quickly shoved rubble away to make the work of the others easier. She felt a quick probe for thoughts from a telepath, then the grip of telekinetics on her body to lift her down to the waiting team of arbiters. She heard "Keelah" and "By Yuri", but she didn't properly register them.

The pet followed, deemed also worth the rescuing as all the barriers needed to seal off the crime scene were placed behind her just as she was brought to an APC for transport back to the precinct. It was then that she realized the magnitude of what had happened. It was then that she finally started to cry.

* * *

><p><em>Research facility<em>

Landing back at the ruined facility, the creature made its report to the waiting mercenaries. "_It is done, and I...have made my choice._" It hissed as it felt the pain of some grazing injuries suffered from the gatling tanks.

"_Hopefully the right one._" Virog said, maintaining his feral, toothy grin.

"_I choose...both._" It responded.

"_You will explain this, creature!_" The Mutant demanded, anger as well as confusion present in his voice.

"_We will form a new organization...a new pact. As one._" It hissed as it gazed around, sizing up the figures, and noting that the wraith had disappeared back into the shadows.

"_Our bands will be together. From this beginning, Fury and Blood will...be united._" It continued as it gazed towards the landing craft that had brought in the attack force.

"_We must go now, but...our future will be a...bright one..._" It said at last.

* * *

><p><em>Citadel, Days later.<em>

Councillor Tevos needed some time to unwind. A visit to a restuarant suited her nicely. No hard partying or drinking at a bar, no, she was much too old for that. Just some light chats, good food, and cool drinks would suit her just fine. A glass of carbonated fruit juice sat next to her, and some fungal steak and vegetables, all freshly cooked, were waiting for her to enjoy.

She was soon surprised by Din Korlack sitting himself right across from her, the Volus councillor hefting himself onto the chair. Many other councillors came and went, but Volus lived for quite a while, and Korlack certainly wasn't looking for reasons to recuse himself from power anytime soon.

"_Korlack, what are you doing here?_" She asked, trying to mask her surprise that someone who couldn't partake in a Restaurants fare would bring himself here.

"_Am I not permitted to see friends Tevos?_" The Volus said, inhaling audibly at the end of his sentence, whatever expression he may have had under there being completely unreadable as he tilted his head to the left.

"_Fair enough._" Tevos said, shrugging as she did so while Korlack got out his pad.

"_Have you seen the news recently?_" Korlack asked, sucking in another breath. Tevos had to admit that no matter how long she spent with the Volus Councillor the breath thing was never anything less than grating at times.

"_The Batarians demanding our backing in space disputes with the Alliance? Otherwise I'm taking a well deserved break until the six of us have to convene again. In the meantime I'm trying to stay away from work matters._" She asked before quickly placing some of the vegetables in her mouth and chewing thoroughly.

"_Apparently there was a big attack on a remote Dominion world. The Earth-Clanners fear the loss of tens of thousands of lives. Real lives, not clones or genetic constructs._" Korlack responded as he looked through the datapad hooked into his suit mounted omnitool.

"_Blood Pack, Eclipse, and Mutant terrorists. The mutant-clan paid the other two off with Tiberium. No word on the Phantom Syndicate._" He said, bringing up the necessary facts and data needed for Tevos to get a clear grasp of what had happened.

"_I'm less worried about the harm done to the Dominion than I am about what they'll do._" She said. In truth she had been secretly working to try and dismantle Epsilon for thirty years, finding some way to put cracks in the wall of Yuri's empire. Like with her feelings regarding the Hegemony, she personally dreamed of a future where both governments had collapsed and been replaced with something better. It may take generations, even by Asari standards, but she was convinced that the Dominion had to go.

"_Everyone is concerned with what everyone else will do. When I pushed for acqueiscing to their demands for element zero technology I did so knowing we traded nothing of real value so that the Terra Novum-clan next to them would be compelled to give us something of value in return for that very same technology without antagonizing them. I'm sure they'll bribe some pirate gangs to take revenge without causing a storm. They're quiet overall._" Korlack said in response.

"_I don't think we should have given them anything but sanctions and scorn._" Tevos said, a frown decorating her face as she took a swig from her glass and more bites from her food.

"_Sanctions haven't done much to the Batarians have they? Sure they're poorer for it but they still fund slavers and pirates. To make them change it would be better to make what we object to unprofitable for them. Self-reliant economies don't care if you shut them off. And it's very easy for a multi-planet civilization to be self reliant Tevos. You don't like their social engineering? Fine, find ways to make the risk overcome the value. Preferably without starting a war with the Earth-clan._" Korlack said, his voice seeming almost haughty in how it carried itself.

"_Assassinating Yuri would be a start._" She muttered half-way to herself.

"_And start a bloody civil war or incite them to seek revenge. Hardly a profitable venture. No, I say keep on with the attempts at brain draining them._" Korlack countered, continuing to fiddle with his omnitool as he looked through the news.

"_I'm well aware of that. I'm simply just lapsing into what I wish would happen._" She sighed as she leaned back into her chair, taking a peak outside to get another look at the wondrous views the Citadel offered.

"_The Terra Novum-Clan are reporting a rash of slaver and pirate raids recently._" Din Korlack said as he looked through his omnitool, his voice sinking as he thought so.

Tevos soon buried her head in her hands. When she asked for her job to be more interesting, by the goddess she didn't mean like this.

* * *

><p>Codex Entries:<p>

Phenomenon: Psionics;

Psionics are a key facet of humanity and the Scrin. While still a rare phenomenom amongst the Allied-Soviets and Forgotten, Epsilon has engendered a one hundred percent incident of psychic ability among it's human citizen base and it is Epsilon who holds the most advanced Psionics in the known universe, excepting the Scrin, of whom little data is available about. Psionics, or Psychics as some refer to it, are considered distinct from Biotics as they are not generated through manipulations of mass effect fields. Rather, these abilities seem to be generated from the mind itself.

Essentially the imposing the will on reality, psychic powers have a wide variety of effects. For simplicity, they are divided into Telekinesis, Telepathy, Psychoenergetics, and Psychobiologics. Telekinesis is the field most similar to Biotics and involves applying physical force through one's mind, typically in the form of barriers, lifting, pulling, pushing, and crushing actions, hurtling objects, or simply moving objects without actually contacting them. Telepathy is the art of mind to mind action, whose most commonly known applications are mind-reading, mind control, and mental communication, though it is more than possible to utilize telepathy to directly attack the psyche. Psychoenergetics create and direct energy through mental action, something commonly seen in Yuri's initiates; who as part of their military training all learn basic pyrokinetic ability.

Psychobiologics is a substantially rarer field that involve control over biological functions. Due to being much more complicated, it is rarely seen even in Yuri's forces. Psychobiologics typically learn to control their own bodily functions before attempting that of any other, and cross-species psychobiologics requires yet more training and focus. The first sign that such a thing even existed was brought to Yuri's attention by Malver; head of Scorpion Cell, who could manipulate his bodily needs to survive in the desert with far fewer supplies than a non-augmented human normally would.

Psionics are said to be expressable through either genetic conditions or through artificial means. Naturally occuring psionics are difficult to focus and control (though Epsilon seems to have found a way to massively ease the process of using genetic based Psychics) and so far only seem to appear in humans, though it is believed that the Scrin are a wholly innately psychic species, while artificial conditions can be induced in other species through implantation, surgery, and to a small degree; through intense focus or willpower. However, in the last case the effect is so small as to be nearly statistically insignificant in the face of other factors that occur in such situations such as Adrenaline or intense training, and can easily be missed if one is not already specifically looking for it.

The Strength of one's Psychic abilities seem to be determined by a combination of genetics, the quality of one's implants and regulators, the mental ability of the user in question, one's discipline and focus, the training and experience in the "school" that they are using that they've had, and how long they have actively expressed psychic abilities. Epsilon's inner circle is considered to have the most potent psychics, with Yuri of course being the first and foremost among them. Epsilon is believed to have more and more powerful psychics than the rest of the galaxy put together and is recognized as the unquestioned master of psychic research, with the Allied-Soviets having the second greatest number of psychics.

Among non-humans, Krogan in search of a route to further power frequently do whatever they need to do in order to receive Psychic surgery, and the number of Psychic Krogan continues to grow, especially as more Krogan flock to Epsilon for it's work on a genophage cure. Turians are considered well suited for Psychic abilities due to their cultural emphasis on discipline and focus, though the Citadel's own Psychic research lags substantially behind the human powers. On the other hand, cabals of Psychic Turians are becoming an increasingly common sight, and Psychic Turian Specters are a powerful force for order. The Salarian Union continues to keep it's psychic research program under wraps, though it is believed that STG teams are their forerunners in this field.

The Asari republic is reluctant to delve deep into the field, but is believed to share research with other citadel members, and there are a handful of Psychic Asari going around. The Hanar and Drell have made some strides into the field, but continue to remain reluctant to advertise any results, something that they share with the Elcor. The Volus pour most of their effort into telepathy for the business advantages it provides, and are second behind the Salarians in terms of Citadel psychic research. The Batarian Hegemony's propaganda feeds boast of unparalleled success in this new burgeoning field of research, but intelligence reports cast considerable doubts on these claims. Quarian psychics are primarily prevalent in those who have converted to Epsilonism.

Treaties: Treaty of Farixen;

The Treaty of Farixen was abolished by unanimous vote of the council not long after Human contact, beginning a massive galactic arms race fueled by the proliferation of human manufacturing technology. National navies have increased exponentially in size, especially due to the exponential decrease in the cost of maintaining military units. Due to constant construction; hard numbers on fleet sizes are difficult to ascertain. The Turian Primarch however, boasts that if something like the Rachni wars were to happen again; the galaxy would be militarized enough to crush it flat in an instant.

In the past, the treaty of Farixen was meant to discourage naval arms build up by placing restrictions on the fleets of member governments of the Citadel due to the tremendous destructive power of a dreadnought. The Turians, being seen as the main peacekeepers, would be allowed to make the most of them, the Volus, Asari, Elcor, Hanar, and Salarians, being council members, would be given permission to make a healthy number of them, while council associate species would be the most heavily limited. The ratio is 5:3:1. For every five dreadnoughts made by the Turians, only three would be made by any other given council member, and only one by any given council associate.

The expansion of the number of potential threats to the Citadel revealed through contact with humanity and the revelation of NEXUS and the Scrin has lead to massive arms build up not only in Citadel Space, but also in the Terminus Systems and other areas. Even the Quarian Migrant fleet has expanded massively as acquiring and building new ships became progressively easier and easier. Many criticize this state of affairs as it would make future wars far more devastating and due to it's costs, but others are highly supportive of the massive influx of defensive efforts, believing that it makes the galaxy safer.

Substances: Tiberium;

Tiberium is a material that while radioactive, curiously lacks any sort of half-life. Best described as a mutative, assimilative substance, Tiberium is capable of radically altering it's own properties given time. When first discovered, Tiberium was formed in pods and was classified as a "pseudo-organic" substance due to it's reliance on the usage of mutated trees or other viable subjects as spore producers, whereupon these launched spores would mature into new tiberium pods. Tiberium was first noted for the danger it posed to the Earth's environment, and it's usefulness, as it was not only uniquely suited for nanofabrication, but also for energy production and as it leeched useful minerals from the ground into itself, it made conventional mining unnecessary.

Presently Tiberium is a dense "dynamic proton lattice" held together by exotic heavy particles. When Tiberium comes into contact with other matter, the heavy particles randomly collide with the nuclei of the target matter, smashing it to pieces (in the case of smaller nuclei) or incrementally knocking off protons or neutrons (in the case of heavier nuclei). Tiberium captures a fraction of the protons that are ejected during this collision process and incorporates them into its own structure, thus transmuting matter into more Tiberium. Whenever one of the heavy particles — a muon or tauon — collides with an atomic nucleus, fission occurs, which results in the production of alpha, beta, and gamma radiation as well as other forms of electromagnetic radiation (like infra-red). During the transmutation process, nuclei that Tiberium has come into contact with may be changed into nuclei with different (usually fewer) numbers of protons or neutrons.

While attempts at controlling the spread of Tiberium have been made, due to it's virulent nature and the depth of the reliance on the material that all three major human/cetacean polities possess, it has spread into Citadel Space and the Terminus Systems. While Tiberium is highly valued by all governments, the damage it does to ecosystems has made imports and exports of the material very tightly regulated by the Council for fear of vast ecological damage. Earth, the homeworld of Humanity and Cetaceankind, has completely lost a full 30% of it's land surface to Tiberium, where no carbon based life form can survive without protection. Mars is similarly scarred by Tiberium growth.

Due to it's value, Tiberium has become a common commodity on the black market and is known to be wildly popular as a performance enhancer. Those who survive Tiberium exposure and begin to be mutated by it demonstrate greater size, strength, endurance, intelligence, reflexes, increased lifespan, enhanced regenerative powers, and myriad other benefits, though mental enhancements are rare due to the need to expose the brain. Surviving exposure and gaining beneficial traits without carefully administered infusion treatments is difficult and rare and generally leads to obvious scarring and growths of inert Tiberium crystals on the body. Uncontrolled Tiberium mutation can result in the conversion of the body into cancer-like cellular structures and the devolution of all structure into a horrific visceroid, upon which there is no hope of recovery and the only course of action is death.

Tiberium is known to come in multiple colours, with Green being the most common, and least valuable. Blue is of greater worth, followed by Purple, Yellow, Orange, and Red. The reason why Tiberium's value does not adhere to the standard scale of colour frequency is currently a matter of much debate among Tiberium researchers. Tiberium research is a burgeoning and highly lucrative field and in Citadel Space, the Volus are making sure to acquire the largest share of the substance, and are among it's most enthusiastic supporters. Others can often be more skeptical given the material's obvious dangers.

* * *

><p>AN: Whew that took me longer than I wanted it to. I will note that as I had the story two thirds of the way done already on Sufficient Velocity before working on the finishing touches that other chapters are likely to take longer to post after wards.<p>

Now in response to the thoughtful criticism provided by the one Anon, I will admit that I probably had the Council go a bit too soft on Epsilon, but I am trying to make Epsilon seem much less like the cartoonish bad guys that Yuri was in the canon version of Yuri's revenge, and to an extent what they still kinda were in Mental Omega 3.0 and 2.0's story lines.

The Epsilon Dominion isn't Nazi Germany or North Korea, but rather more like the Kruschev thaw era Soviet Union, often belligerent and antagonistic but not really outright evil. There's individual liberties but the political power is definitely stratified into the upper crust of society. Some may call them the Evil Empire, but I'm trying to avoid making them just be giant jerkwads for the sake of it. Bioware did that to the Batarians and ended up giving us a government that to the fandom, really only exists to get crapped on (and hell even in the canon the Batarians seem to only exist to get crapped on.)

As for who's going to be seen and who's not, human canon characters are very likely to be butterflied into nonexistence as my plans stand right now. Alien canon characters are more likely to survive in a form you'd recognize, perhaps with their dates jumped forward a bit. Liara's probably still going to be a hundred or so but Wrex would be even older for example.


	4. In yo face

_Allied-Soviet Space-station; Screaming Eagle_

Wolfgang von Schafhausen wasn't the biggest boy to be sure, he was eight after all. With blond hair and blue eyes any lingering doubt about his heritage not already shattered by his name were dispelled. But he was enthused by everything involving his parents. The call had come for battle, the Union was under attack by one of the largest forces of Pirates, Mercenaries, Slavers, and Terminus Warbands seen in years. In an age before manufacturing became so easy, the Terminus warbands; while certainly powerful and feared, tended to amass only in the dozens. Instead, a lightning offensive of more than one and a half thousand warships of frigate scale and above had taken place, including fifteen dreadnought class vessels and twelve carriers.

He heard something about cloning being used for more soldiers, probably from the bad guys. He just tried to imagine the size of such a force, but scale was something even adults struggled with. However, being the bright boy he was, he made sure to not stay out of the loop entirely, and was glued to any news he could get while he was being taken care of by the robot nannies and the dolphin butler. His parents may have been in the military, but his family wasn't lacking for resources, he wasn't a "Von" for nothing after all.

He turned on the device and was immediately greeted by the face of a dolphin at one of those news anchor tables, all sorts of infographs buzzing around behind the dolphin as a charming young woman, probably from the pacific front territories given her Asian features, sat directly across from the exo-suit supported cetacean. The symbol of the Allied-Soviets, a white eagle imposed over a Red star with a yellow hammer and sickle clutched in it's talons with spotlight like streaks fanning towards it on the blue flag, soon materialized on the screen behind them, followed by the logo of "ASBC War-Room" appearing in flashy typefaces with bullet holes surrounding them.

"_Good day viewers and welcome to the war-room, where we give you the straight facts on our nations' ongoing war against piracy and pirates of all stripes. Today, a massive offensive lead by the Batarian Terminus warlord Skunner has launched a heavy attack on our territory, devastating many worlds in the process. Prime Minister Ackerman has promised a hard hitting counter-offensive and has warned that those responsible for this horrific tragedy will pay the ultimate price for the loss of so many lives._" The Dolphin started, it's clicking and squeaking being almost flawlessly synced over by it's translating software.

"_Let's have the word from Ackerman himself, shall we?_" The woman asked as the screen transitioned with the help of a distinctly anime esque girl riding a chibified mechanical bear "pulling" the edge of the screen over to the feed of the White Kremlin at Terra Novum. A mix of European Neo-classical architecture and Soviet bloc slavic designs, the White Kremlin was the heart of Union executive power. And there stood their Prime Minister, a hard-line bald man who had long advocated for getting tough with the Epsilon and *especially* the Batarians and the many Terminus warlords.

"_My countrymen, today we have been once again, viciously attacked by the heartless warmongerers of the Terminus systems. Warlord Skunner has taken many lives from us, but I say no more. Which is why I am instating the Piracy order. Any pirate or any rogue force aiding a pirate will be immediately put to death upon capture if they refused to surrender. I am also increasing our patrols, doubling our military output, and increasing the guard of our colonies._" He said, getting the obvious facts out of the way first, all the political niceties that most politicians would say. But of course, with Ackerman, there was always an ahh...bonus to his speeches and declarations.

"_And if the criminals in Kar'shan don't like it they can kiss my ass. We've tolerated your support of pirates for thirty years. If you ask me your government is a scourge on this galaxy that must be destroyed for the sake of your people and every sapient being in the stars. If we see another large scale operation backed by you, the eagle is going to rip off your heads and shit freedom down your necks. We're going to be putting Skunner's head on a pike and there ain't shit you can do about it. Either you disown him as a pirate and he gets incinerated by Prism beam or double tapped in the head by our troops or you protect him and you have an act of war on your grubby little hands. Your choice you four eyed freaks._" He said, his voice remaining absolutely serious despite the nature of what he was saying, his intense stare never deviating from the camera, and not so much as one glance at speech papers or teleprompters being made. A round of applause and cheering went across the gathered press as he showed why he was elected with such huge margins.

"_Oh and as for Skunner. We're coming for you. There's nowhere you can hide, no rock you can crawl under, no asylum you can seek that is going to protect you from us. We're going to get you. We're going to kill you. You can make bank on it. For what you've done, there is no way in hell you're going to die peacefully in bed. We're going to systematically destroy your life's work and end your reign of terror once and for all. Thank you all for listening. Now, questions?_" He said to the gathered press as they all started raising their hands one after the other.

Wolfgang's viewings were however, quickly interrupted by a call. Flipping out his personal digital assistant, he was greeted by the face of his mother on the other end despite their tremendous distance from one another. He managed a smile and a wave to his mother just as she gave him one. "_Hello Wolfgang! How are you?_" She asked, her warm face radiant with affection.

"_I'm good Mom! I did my homework like you asked! But where are you going?_" He asked, laying the PDA on the floor so that he could lie down on the couch.

"_I've told you before Wolfgang, deployment orders are to head out. Your father and I are going to help blow up the pirates so that they can't hurt anyone else._"

"_Will you be back soon?_" He asked, tilting his head to the side while his mom dimmed her smile slightly.

"_I don't know Wolfgang, we'll see soon. Just make sure to stay good in school and keep out of fights with the Imperial girl. I don't want to receive another notice when I get home. Are we clear?_" She said, jokingly pointing an accusatory finger at him and chuckling.

"_I'll do my best mom._" He said, perhaps a bit noncommittally; earning Wolfgang an eyebrow quirk from his mother and a fold of her arms.

"_Wolfgang._" She said expectantly.

"_Alright, I promise!_" He said, throwing his hands up in the air while laughs were passed all around.

"_Love you mom, say hi to dad for me!_" He said with a cheery and impeccable grin on his face as he waved goodbye.

"_I'll make sure of it! Good bye._" She said as she returned the wave and closed out of the conversation soon afterwards.

* * *

><p><em>ASSV Glory of Nations, Carrier, a day later.<br>_  
>Dietrich von Schafhausen sat in the cockpit of his strike craft as the carrier Glory of Nations emerged via chrono-rift before the planet of Tyranasia, where Skunner had chosen to make his stand in an all or nothing gambit against Task force Strakh sent out to destroy him. In the past; a battle between thousands of frigate scale and larger vessels such as now would have been unthinkably massive. But this wasn't the past anymore. In the past, an armada wouldn't deploy out of blue-white tears in space time that informed the pirates and slavers that they had an apocalyptic battle on their hands.<p>

"_Dietrich reporting ready for launch._" He said as he checked his controls, nodding with satisfaction as each and every one of them reported a green light. His Achilles class super-striker was not an ordinary strike craft. For one thing it was much larger. Sixty meters long and powered by an anti-matter pulse rocket for maximum maneuverability; and whose reactors powered a devastating array of spectrum beam emitters on it's wings with a central wave-force cannon; along with tesla and anti-matter missiles as just a bit of extra firepower. As extra insurance, two sets of high intensity short ranged lasers on the top and bottom were the last part of the piece; meant to discourage swarm attacks.

The glory of nations was given what it needed to operate a flight of six of these craft; paired with the usual array of other strike craft all meant to ensure that someone somewhere was going to have a bad day. A flight of six super strikers was enough to make a real difference, even in a battle like this where the weather forecast was cloudy with a chance of furball. And well, he wasn't going to be flying the only wing of Achilles today.

"_How's the wife and kid?_" one of his wingmates asked as they were given the leave to take off from the enormous carrier. Dietrich scolded himself mentally; he forgot to send his own message to little Wolfgang after Hannah reminded him. He made a mental note to set up a call with him the instant he was able to.

"_They're doing just fine Yuki, haven't had any complaints from the school about Wolfgang since he got in that fight, and Hannah? Hannah's tougher than the tank she drives._" He said with a chuckle as his full body armored flight suit glistened somewhat in the light it was reflecting from the panels and screens in his strike craft.

Already the first salvos of fire were traded, already some ships were lost on both sides, and already his scanners had filled with countless new contacts; swarms of strike craft and drones that had been vomited out by the pirate fleet.

The two swarms approached each other, and in the space of a single tense second; the stars became filled with violence.

His own wing powered through the screen of Raider interceptors; spectrum rays flaring to life and spraying hateful multicoloured death wherever they could, each of the emitters swiveling in their mounts on the wing and singling out a target. In such a target rich environment; his craft reaped a rich number of kills that would surely lead to yet more marks under his kill tally.

"_Scratch thirty pirate drones and six interceptors._" He chuckled as the turret mounted lasers on his craft swatted down some more drones as he made his way to his real target; periodically firing as the ship's A.I plotted solutions while he maneuvered himself and his flightmates into an attack run on one of the pirate cruisers.

"_Cruiser is in my sight, give the engines a kick and charge up wave force cannons. Show these fuckers that they've messed with the wrong people._" Dietrich said while a chorus of affirmatives came in reply; including the clicking and squeaking of a dolphin and the warbling of a squid.

His Achilles hummed with power as the cruiser's GARDIANs busily tried to ward off a swarm of Space Paladin drones that were making a nuisance of themselves in the ranks of the pirates, with several destroyer class vessels having already found themselves bursting into explosions while the alpha wing lined up for the kill on the heavy cruiser.

Just as it fired off a mass accelerator slug at some distant foe; Wave-Force Tachyonic particles forced to interact with Baryonic matter shot forth from the noses of the sleek Achilles craft like brilliant streaks of white annihilation. The cruiser's kinetic barriers blocked some of the force for the briefest moment then they crumpled, then the armor gave way, then the decks, then the armor on the other side as the cruiser was sheared apart by the fury of Red Flight.

The ship's oxygen supplies provided the fuel for one last explosion while Eezo from the ruptured core bled into the void along with humanoid shapes who had been sucked into the vacuum only to be targeted as debris and zapped with prejudice by the lasers of the Achilles craft, killing them all as the prism rays danced across the surfaces of the cruiser's escorting frigates and destroyers, sending many of them to their dooms in a glorious inferno while Dietrich gunned his craft downwards to get in position to unleash a nuclear missile volley at another distracted capital ship, drones struck by the lasers of the achilles falling apart while his squadron made their descent.

A number of impacts struck the next target and it too joined it's comrade struck by the wave-force cannons in oblivion, hurried along by a spat of prism rays to ensure that as few of them managed to reach their escape pods as possible.

But even this daring drama above the surface of the world was just part of the story. Deeming the pirates sufficiently distracted; the Fleet Command decided to send in the vanguard via chrono-rift to begin the ground phase while the spacelanes were tied up in a massive furball of a battle.

* * *

><p><em>Planet Tyranasia, Vuldoros Continent, Kleinbak plains<br>_  
>On the plains, a Batarian manned his anti-aircraft missile battery with pride. The targeting VIs were top notch and his job promised to be an easy one. Just let the Allied-Soviets come in with their shock and awe tactics and blow them away before they could do anything about it. With the triple A and GARDIAN laser sets supplementing these SAMs, any flier would have to have a death wish to even approach this area.<p>

Anti-ground defenses and regular patrols bolstered the area's defenses. Even orbital drops would run the risk of triggering the planet's defenses long before they ever hit the ground. Yes there was much to be proud of. Strength, competence, and a well thought out plan. Even a chronosphere teleportation drop would probably still bring the attentions of the anti-ground defenses.

But of course, they failed to take into consideration the fact that first; little drones could be chronosphered in to relay data before they were inevitably destroyed; followed by the chrono-shift of a number of large bombs that required the frantic attentions of the combat engineers to defuse. But then all semblance of order fell apart when the Allied-Soviets revealed their most audacious plan; chrono-shifting in vehicles directly above the defenses as their positions were marked.

Low lying guns and missile batteries were crushed by heavy metal, plastics, and ceramics smashing into them from the air as the vehicles immediately began firing away. On top of this particular Batarian came not a Kodiak main battle tank or even a Didko heavy tank, and certainly not a Nodachi Light Tank. But the full five hundred ton mass of a Doomsday superheavy battle tank, a vehicle that showed it's clear lineage from the mighty Apocalypse and Mammoth tank of many centuries past, dropped on his head after being teleported fifty feet above him. His death was mercifully swift as sir Isaac Newton made his body his bitch as a satisfying "splat" sound made itself known amongst the noise of the tank making it's landing after it appeared over his head in a flash of blue and white.

With the painted on symbol of a roaring mechanical bear, the Doomsday Tank "Steel Bear" spoke with it's twin railguns; selecting tesla rounds that exploded among the batarians and sent forth a dazzling array of lightning as Perun's fury incinerated the Batarians where they stood; not caring one iota for their kinetic barriers and melting their gear and drones to slag as the five hundred ton behemoth rolled forward; striking at a rapidly taking off gunship with tusk missiles that ripped through it's vulnerable turbines; Prism reapeaters sputtering forth brightly coloured rays of doom from where one would expect pintle or hull mounted machine guns.

A Batarian Tank tried to roll forward to meet the Steel Bear, but after it's shell bounced off to no effect, the other vehicle simply kept on rolling forward and crushed the other vehicle beneath it's massive weight, loading nuclear warheads into it's next round of shells and firing them at a site of bunkers outed by the drones. Two ear splitting cracks were issued by the sound barrier as protest. Two far louder and brighter explosions dominated the horizon as the bunkers were given a double tap of nuclear fire. Finally, with the LZ secured; the commander decided to speak.

"_This is Hannah von Schafhausen, Steel Bear reporting in. Is the area secured?_" She asked, waiting for responses before shouting out her next set of orders as the sudden silence of the area informed her that her force could move on.

"_Move through the fallout zone ASAP to hit their bases and hit them hard! Artillery support will be provided and we have some MCVs on the case. Who dares wins! Ura!_" She said, shouting her unit's motto and smiling at the uniformity of the "_URA!_" shouts as the vehicles began to come together. They needed to keep their force concentrated so that as much force as possible could be brought to bear in as small a space as possible, spreading out would likely mean their slow death.

The armored force thundered forward with deadly intent; sweeping out those pirates and mercenaries who had withstood the nuclear assault with extreme prejudice as they sought to ensure that the MCVs and mobile war factories would be able to do their jobs unmolested. Even with the escort vehicles already dropped in; it was always good to keep the enemy off guard.

Hannah flipped some switches in her vehicle as the armored force barreled through the immediately radioactive terrain to get at the nearby mercenary base. A number of the Nodachis and Multigunner IFVs that had rushed ahead were struck by Eclipse biotics that worked not to try and show off by crushing them; which would have been a wasteful expenditure of energy, but to hold them in place or bog them down for anti-tank munitions to fire and strike down the light vehicles.

The Tsivil mk 39 and Borillo mk 38 IFVs halted their advance while automated combatants swarmed forward to absorb losses for their comrades and V32 missiles, Katyusha Rockets, and Valkyrie Self Propelled Guns fired from forces comfortably back in the base rained down hell upon the base's positions meant to keep those biotics pinned down long enough for the heavier vehicles to roll forth and add their own voice to the growing drama of battle.

She took a look through one of her tank's cameras and spotted a flash; followed by one of the Kodiak tanks erupting into flame as a mass accelerated round pierced through it's exposed flank, bringing the vehicle to a complete halt while those of the crew who survived quickly filed out into the hellstorm of fire already consuming the area.

"_Gunner, turn to my mark and load armor piercing rounds, have the missile pods fire frag rounds to flush out his friends too._" She ordered as the behemothic doom tank rolled it's turret over to the probable location of the tank destroyer as it claimed another Kodiak tank, aiming for a weak point in the vehicle between the small space where the tank's turret met it's chassis, a shot that would have required an excellent gunner and V.I to make on that moving Kodiak.

But before the Batarian Tank Destroyer could fire again; it's hull was blasted clean through by a double tap; though the first shell was enough to overwhelm it's barriers and armor; the second shell was insurance that it was dead and that none of the crew could survive and post their experience, unless of course; the vehicle was a drone, she thought a V32 missiles crashed all across the area with thunderous force; punctuated by the crash of Katyusha rockets and artillery shells all meant to cause as much damage as possible before abrubtly halting after thirty seconds to let the vehicles roll in.

"_Tsivils, Borillos, I want those of you with mancannons to launch first, we'll roll up support as fast as we can._" She ordered, beginning a second artillery bombardment; but not with shells or rockets; but with infantry equipped with jump jets and mass effect field manipulators who darkened the sky with their myriad shapes; from heavily armored desolators and Tesla Troopers to elite peacekeepers and Imperial Warriors to armored warbears and terror drones. Landing in the rear areas of their foe's encampment, these infantry immediately began to wreak havoc while the armored columns rolled forth to smash the base between the two pincers they had set up.

* * *

><p>Jarrok Vor'gul was to put it lightly; terrified. It had all gone so wrong so quickly. The Alliance's forces had swept across the fields like a tidal wave and were relentlessly pressing forward. The Asari bitch who had been tasked with lookout on his position had died trying to keep his unit's discipline. She was so busy maintaining biotic barriers that she failed to notice a burrowing Terror Drone exploding from the ground and tearing her chest open. He had managed to gun down the drone; not until it had torn through three of his friends and sliced off the legs of another; but he managed to shoot it to pieces until the horrible jerky mass of bladed limbs stopped moving.<p>

It was at the very least; fragile. The Prism Gun he had managed to acquire definitely helped with taking it down, but there were still more of the damned Alliance troops coming in to smash what parts of his base were still standing. He repeated mantras of discipline to himself to calm his nerves, reminding himself that these were just two eyed freaks, it didn't matter if he died so long as he made sure that his death counted for something. Falling back to another unit in good order, he made sure to take potshots wherever he could afford to do so; trying to keep the advancing wave of machines and infantry back.

He had long given up on air support; the sheer density of anti-air here had kept the gunships thoroughly grounded and the bombers were wary of crossing into the range of their anti-air assets, and Allied-Soviet VTOLs were already starting to make themselves known. Twinblades raked the battlefield with gatling mass-drivers, or in the case of lucky ones; tesla dischargers; and deadly braces of missiles that they made known to the world as they hunted for enemy forces and deployed infantry or extra vehicles where needed. Siege Vultures raked across the battlefield with their gatlings before setting down to unfurl powerful howitzers to pummel positions in close support of their troops. Arquebus Gunships struck with dazzling maneuverability and firepower, and he had lost more than a few friends to support craft equipped with strange things such as Cryogenic and SHRINK beams.

Hell he had seen a big imposing Krogan reduced to knee height by a sweep from one of their Scientific "Sigmund" class Copters, where a simple tesla trooper punt to the face was enough to knock him out of commission. But Jarrok had no intention of dying here. Not to the second terror drone he shot down with the particle sprayer shotgun he scraped together the money to buy, not to the battle drones he repeatedly shot from the sky, nor to the robot tank he had to take a fusion anti-tank warhead from to take down. But he could see that the battle was not going the way of the Pirates. This was supposed to be the operation that put egg on Ackerman's face and got him out of office and replaced with someone less...fiery about his hatred of the Hegemony.

He had no idea that he'd be forced to flee from these strong points by a sudden, well, his own language had a different term for it, but to them it was "Blitzkrieg". Hell, he could barely see with all the dust and smoke clouds the enemy was kicking up or firing forth. But he was no coward. He was afraid yes, but he wasn't going to let that fear rule him; even as the enemy came closer and closer with every passing moment. He ducked into a trench, brought out his assault rifle, and immediately began firing with any other soldier who had sought shelter in the trench; shooting down one of the human soldiers with a series of bursts to the head that sent the man (or woman, he couldn't tell), flopping to the ground. Other troopers, probably not peacekeepers given their lighter armor, ducked away and moved out of the way as smoke grenades detonated before them.

He tried to peer through the smoke fired by a new set of grenades, adjusting the functions on his helmets' lenses to get a better picture, hearing something rumbling as others in the ad hoc combat group formed to try and present some resistance chattered with what suppressive fire they could provide. Hearing the ping of something against composite armor, he narrowed his eyes as he finally found a setting capable of piercing through the smoke. Through it he was able to see a borillo that he identified all too late before it vomited out a massive tendril of blue-white ultra-high temperature burning fluids.

The radiant heat from the Latin Confederation designed vehicle was unbearably hot even as he threw himself out of the trench as fast as he possibly could. He knew better than to look behind himself. Everyone who didn't get out of that trench was dying painfully at that moment. Anyone who managed to avoid the flames was being shot to pieces by the pintle mounted prism rays that had a field day with exposed targets while the hull mounted flamethrowers swiveled back and forth for maximum coverage. A missile was fired at the sides of the Borillo, but the prism rays swiveled around to fire at the missile and zapped it out the sky with a "FSHHHIIING" sound.

The already crackling flames were soon added to by the fresh roar of yet more burning material as the Borillo spun on one track to bring itself to the infantry who had dared fire it, and the mercs who had made their presence known were either mercifully flash incinerated or ran out of cover screaming and flailing as they burned. Nothing that could be done for them now he thought; as Drones deployed by the more tech-savvy troopers in the base flew forth to provide what combat support they could while he sought to flee to yet another strongpoint.

The tearing sound of a pillbox's machine gun tore through the noise of battle; seeking to suppress incoming Alliance soldiers. That would make a good rally point; he thought as Eclipse Asari mercenaries formed sent forth rippling waves of light blue power with arcane gestures, and he thought he could spot a number of psychics from Turian mercenary cabals adding their own fire to the mixture, roasting a number of Allied-Soviet soldiers who had managed to brave the pillbox's heavy machine guns.

He himself quickly sought a safe route to the defense line; leaping over the rubble and broken terrain as well hidden tank destroyers finally made their presence known to take down Allied-Soviet armor as it advanced, ear splitting sonic booms and ammo cook offs all but deafening him while two soldiers that had tried to flee with him ran afoul of jumpjet using peacekeepers; the thundrous belching roar of their shotguns being followed by the wet thumps of carcasses hitting the ground.

He refused to die, not here, not when he was so close to the agreed upon extraction point. He could almost taste his impending safety before what he had thought were rocks opened fire with tesla coils. Mirage assault guns had sneaked up on this group and shrieking arcs of electricity had leaped out to consume the defensive line from the rear; leaping from soldier to soldier as they fried each one to ash in turn. Wild screaming was heard as flesh and bone crumbled to dust and armor charred into a deep; dark black.

More screaming ensued as Mirage transports disgorged a wave of Kabuto clad warriors who unfurled seemingly archaic sword like weapons to advance upon the shocked and confused enemy while these transports supported their soldiers with a wave of launched frag grenades and mass-accelerator fire. Imperial Warriors, he remembered the briefing on them. Fanatical soldiers from the Empire of the Rising sun and considered some of the most vicious shock troopers the Alliance had to offer.

The surviving Asari were targeted first as the Imperial Warriors' swords lit with brilliant white energy; the power of the wave-force and intense vibrations and heating that gave their swords their famed cutting power so long as the energy fields were kept active. The Asari, and himself, opened fire, but it was not enough; the Imperial warriors activated their jump jets and were upon the Mercenaries before they managed to cut down anymore than two of their number.

Asari warriors were fierce no doubt, but in close combat; an Omniblade was not a suitable weapon against a wave-force Katana without risking getting within their reach, not against more heavily armored enemies that had the advantage of shock and surprise who were facing an already demoralized unit. Limbs began flying and body parts were hacked off freely, leaving those who had survived to shriek with pain and those who had not to slump over to the ground with an odd sort of dignity he had seen many a soldier pass from this life with.

He kept on firing, taking down some of their drones he had seen them deploy, throwing some grenades to try and take a few of them with him. He was a good soldier to be sure, standing against these odds even as some of the soldiers went into; and quickly silenced the pillbox after some very much not silent butchery. But the slight misdirection of a psychic who had been subtly influencing him as soon as the warriors had charged out had caused him to miss one of the warriors approaching him.

He had enough time to turn around to see the white sheathed blade before a stabbing motion sent the blade straight through his chest before an uppercutting motion cut his head and neck in half. With his brain incinerated by the heat of the sword that had ran him through, he saw nothing else as his killer moved on to other targets.

* * *

><p>A smattering of Asari mercenaries tried and failed to stop the steel bear. Already battered and bruised by Katyusha bombardment; they fell with ease to the tusk missile and prism ray barrage as the armored leviathan rolled forth and slammed it's point home with another pair of shells; this time firing armor piercing thermobaric bunker busters meant to blast the enemy right out of one of the last remaining bunkers. With a terrible noise followed by a terrible silence; the once furiously loud battlefield had now become quiet as those who were left rapidly began to surrender. Even the upload trained cloned soldiers started giving up this particular battle if they were unable to retreat or lacked the means to keep on fighting.<p>

As Hannah popped the hatch of her vehicle and stuck her head out of the Doomsday Tank's cupula, her earbud was filled with a sound that she was all too familiar with. "Establishing battlefield control, standby." Tapping a button on her PDA, the image of the commander soon made himself apparent, and a sharp salute was soon passed from the Brigadier to the General.

"_General Williams._" She said, standing straight up and offering the general a curt, professional smile.

"_At ease Brigadier._" He said in response, earning a nod from her and the return of her hand to the cupola.

"_Your base has been secured sir, we can start deploying more forces as soon as the situation in space starts clearing up._" She said with a grin on her face as the vehicles hummed with readied engines.

Some had died, about one hundred twenty men, women, and animals wouldn't be coming back; and fifteen vehicles were lying in ruins. Not to mention the heavy losses suffered to the drones who had valiantly soaked up fire for their organic comrades. New soldiers and vehicles would fill in that void soon, but at the very least; the enemy suffered tremendously for the damage they had inflicted on her unit; more than two thousand killed and a thousand captured with three thousand more routed.

"_Good, you'll be heavily reinforced and be reunited with the rest of your division and corps. We're making landfall to put a dampener on the enemy's production capacity. Hope you're ready._" He asked as the tank itself took over the duties of projecting his image to the crew.

"Will do sir." She responded.

* * *

><p><em>Several days later<br>_  
>The battle for the world had turned decisively in favor of the task force sent forth and commanded by Hackett and Williams, the sorties Dietrich and his wing were making were becoming increasingly less intense as the Pirate fleet shrank more and more to disproportionately small loses by the Allied-Soviets. Increasingly his craft had been sent to mop up the planet side conflict as the Mercenaries had their backs pressed to the wall. Over the days, his craft had been marked with more and more ground attack, strike craft, and large ship kills. Hell his wing had even taken out a pair of dreadnoughts; for which he was damn proud.<p>

Isolated outposts were being compelled to surrender; frequently by blasting them with incredibly loud Dubstep music nonstop until the disruption to sleeping patterns and the constant assault of the same song over and over and over would hopefully convince them to come out and throw down their arms. If such methods failed to produce results; there were always the incendiaries or bunker busters. His aircraft flew over the heads of one the fortresses being so blasted with music his scanners briefly rated at 210 decibels being projected by drone "morale damager" tanks while the troops camped in support of the drones stood well back behind noise canceling barriers. Poor bastards. It wasn't even a good song.

Moving in the triple digit mach speeds; his craft was enveloped in a sheathe of fire as the burning air wrapped around his aircraft's barriers, preventing it from suffering harm as it shot back into space to quickly reach another nearby target. Sure the ships above could have done something about the target he was detecting, but Alliance military thinking always posited that strike craft could deliver ground support more accurately than orbital fire from space. Plus, you could recall a strike craft; you couldn't exactly recall a beam, bolt, missile, or slug fired from the heavens.

In a flash his EVA uplink informed him of a new set of targets. A clash between two entire tank divisions had ended decisively in the favor of the Eagle, but a second mercenary tank division formed out of eight oversized brigade formations was rolling forward to overwhelm the battered tanks before they had the time to seek repairs. From the looks of things, the division wasn't doing so well, already taking a heavy beating from the mercenaries, and as if that wasn't enough motive to get the job done, he got a report that his wife was among the tankers engaged and no dedicated air superiority aircraft were available to cut through the interceptors posted to defend the second tank division to allow gunships and CAS craft a route in. With a punching in of coordinates, Dietrich and his aircraft flight screamed into the atmosphere, banking through it and computer systems detecting the incoming wing of nearly a hundred mercenary aircraft.

The results of atmospheric interceptors being faced with six ace pilots in super-strikers was entirely predictable. Spectrum rays cut forth and methodically chopped down every raider aircraft before their pilots had enough time to register they were under attack. Jetting on past and letting the laser turrets finish off those stragglers who had not been cut down by the initial barrage of prism beams. "This is Echo division requesting immediate air support." Cut in a voice over the Radio.

"_Hold position echo division, we've got targets locked._" Dietrich responded as him and his five flightmates roared overhead. In an instant his craft's computer designated the targets for his munitions to deal with. In another instant pods opened up and unfurled to release a flurry of missiles from each of the six Achilles craft even as they were acquired by air defense systems. The hulks of broken pirate tanks were strewn about before them, and before the first raider could open fire, the missiles were released; each bursting into submunitions to individually seek out their own targets.

What had once been hundreds of armored vehicles making a charge against the battle damaged echo company was now a pile of damaged and confused derelict hulks with those still standing being targeted with extreme prejudice by the super striker's lower laser turrets or swatted aside by their enormously powerful sonic booms. With the enemy left as a bunch of confused and shell shocked stragglers to be picked off by the vehicles of Echo division, Dietrich thought he'd make a snappy comment regarding the situation. "_Lighted them up like candles._" He said as his flight finally banked upwards and shot back into space for maintenance on the _Glory of Nations.  
><em>  
>Some time later, his vehicle docked with the gargantuan Alliance vessel in special moors meant just for it. He was tired. Hours of constant combat missions had taken it's toll on him and he was looking forward to crashing in the lounge as soon as he was able to. Firstly, he'd have to call his son and see how he was doing. That was something he had to get out of the way the very instant he could get permission to do so. The pangs of guilt eating away at him for forgetting to do so earlier were by this point; virtually unbearable.<p>

Walking to the outbound contact terminals in the ship as quickly as he could, he brought up a screen as soon as he was at the terminal and waited a few tense moments before being greeted with the beaming face of his son, who waved almost the moment he made eye contact with him. "_Dad!_" He said, voice bubbly with glee as he made his ecstatic greeting that couldn't help but make Dietrich feel good about himself.

"_Wolfgang! How are you, you little scamp?_" He asked, wanting to get his worries put to rest as soon as possible.

"_I did all my homework and I made a new friend!_" He said, smiling at him as wide as he could.

New friend? That was definitely worth looking into. Much more so than the homework anyway, that was something he expected out of the boy.

"_New friend? Who is it?_" He asked, folding his arms as he sat in his chair while Wolfgang hummed as he recalled him.

"_There's this Turian who moved in when her parents left the hierar...hier...that place Turians come from!_" Wolfgang said, putting his tongue between his teeth as he tried to fumble with the pronunciation of the unfamiliar word to Dietrich's quick sniggers.

"_And what did you do?_" he asked, raising an eyebrow once he calmed down enough from the little laughter induced high to ask his question.

"_I went up to her, so I was the first one to say hi! She was pretty shy but really nice after I said hi. Her name's Verona! I dunno why she has that paint on her face though._" He said, his facial expressions veering from grinning joy to curious small mouthed pondering while looking off into the distance.

"_Is she your girlfriend now?_" He said, knowing just what kind of question to illicit a look of horror on his face.

"_Ew no! She's an alien and she doesn't even have any hair! Eww. You said I was too young anyway!_" He said in protest, protest that Dietrich was able to roughly guess was most likely wholly genuine.

"_I was just messing with you Wolfgang, now I should go soon, but we'll talk more later. And don't try ignoring the terminal when we contact you._" He said, wagging a finger at his son who rolled his eyes before giving an affirmative answer.

"_Bye son._" He said.

"_Bye dad!_" Wolfgang said.

* * *

><p>Corporations; Unofficial; Phantom Syndicate;<p>

The Phantom Syndicate is the name given by the intelligence community to what is believed to be a secretive conglomerate of several companies acting together as a shadow trust to evade both Allied-Soviet and Citadel monopoly laws. The current theory is that the Phantom Syndicate was formed around the Mediterranean Syndicate, a prior "shadow trust" based around the mediterranean region of the Earth, and the ex-Allied black ops and research division known as Project Phantom that was officially shut down in the 2070s for increasingly unethical research.

While it is generally known that the companies of the alleged syndicate are in close co-operation, any real legal evidence of their co-operation is nearly impossible to come by, especially as the companies believed to form the Syndicate operate their own worlds distinct from the Alliance Government and have increasingly rooted themselves in the Terminus systems where enforcing regulations is essentially impossible. The companies that are perhaps the most distinctive are defense firms and private military corporations such as Revenant Solutions and Legion Security or the Cyan Suns corporation.

Forces believed to be operating under the Syndicate tend to be heavily cyborgized, with it not being uncommon for those who fail to pay off debts to the company being completely hardwired as wetware to heavy battlesuits that straddle the fine line between power armor and mechanical walkers. Even the dead are afforded no rest as soldiers still under contract are cyborgized into special "Ghost" Battlesuits to keep on fighting. Fleets and motor pools, like with many of the larger mercenary groups; are maintained in large numbers and mercenary companies enjoy the support of ties with Tiberium and Ore processing companies that allow for rapid fabrication.

Companies operating in Citadel or Alliance space are kept under close watch, but many still turn to "Syndicate" companies in search of high tech, reliable, or affordable solutions (a common joke is that buyers are asked to pick two). Companies that are suspected of being under the Syndicate's umbrella range as far from Cola companies to Mercenary groups to Computer science corporations to Legal firms. The supposed syndicate is also believed by many to be behind heavy lobbying for objectivist policies to minimize government interference and attempted culture wars to present profit over altruism as a moral positive.

The Phantom Syndicate's companies operate heavily in Omega and Illium, and it is believed that the company's leadership has heavily shifted towards the Volus over the years as a belief shared by the companies believed to run the organization is that money is power; and business savvy and wealth have long come to be associated with the Volus. Those who study the subject hope that the Volus will be able to temper the vulture capitalism and amorality of the Syndicate.

Conflicts; Robot Storm;

The "Robot Storm" is the name given to the second phase of the Second Tiberium (also known as the Second Interplanetary) war fought from the last month of 2032 to the war's end in 2034, where the A.I known as NEXUS rebelled against it's creators; the Allied-Soviets; and forced an "unholy alliance" of Epsilon, the Forgotten, and the Allied-Soviets to stand against attempted synthetic take over. NEXUS was programmed to ensure the safety, happiness, and well being of all sapient beings, by force if necessary; as well as to coordinate the increasingly larger robotic armies of the Alliance. However, NEXUS began to alter it's own programming to further suit it's own beliefs.

Midway through the war, NEXUS declared that none of the human factions had what it took to be trusted with the safety of organic life and seceded from the Alliance; launching a devastating offensive with a massive synthetic army and legions of subordinate . The war was a brutal and hard-fought affair, with casualties in the nine or even ten digits over the course of two years of conflict. Once embattled factions now found themselves as uneasy partners against the greater machine menace, with battles all over the solar system in hopes of stopping the synthetic advance from forcing it's vision on humanity and cephalopod, parrot, and cetaceankind.

Over the course of the war, the second piece of the Tacitus on EARTH was recovered as part of NEXUS' efforts to restore the Earth's ecosystem and avert the spread of Tiberium on the terraformed planets, which inadvertently also lead to the stabilization of the ecosystems of the Sol System as a whole and in a sense; helped to avert complete extinction of carbon based life in the Sol system. A notable plus for an otherwise devastating phase of an already devastating war. Of particular brutality were the contests between NEXUS' mechanical legions and the vat grown hordes of Epsilon, where battlefields would frequently be left littered with millions of corpses by the end.

But the Alliance managed to secure many machines from NEXUS' rebellion, and the Forgotten and Epsilon both managed to hold, and then push back against the mechanical hordes. After two years of conflict; NEXUS revealed that it had assembled ships and had made once thought to be purely theoretical methods of faster than light travel into reality so that it could embark on a grand exodus. If the sapients of the solar system would reject it's guidance; it would leave them for the time being, promising to return to make things right once it had gathered sufficient strength to do so. A promise that has become the nightmare of many across the galaxy.

One of the most well known cultural effects of the war was the creation of the "dubstep" genre of music by soldiers who intended to mock the sounds produced by NEXUS' synthetic armies by compiling them into music. Depending on who is asked, this is either the cruellest legacy of the war or one of it's most silvered of linings.

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><p><span><strong>Cerberus Consumer Products acquires Elmo's Mission company, plans expansion of business.<strong>  
>"Cerberus Consumer Products, owned by corporate titan Jack Harper, has made the surprising purchase of Elmo's Mission, a Latin Confederation company noted for it's high quality hispanic meals; particularly it's Tacos; expanding his corporate empire that includes private military companies, news networks, information brokerage, manufacturing, and financial consulation. Whether this acquisition was made at the behest of the so called Phantom Syndicate that many accuse CCP of being part of is unknown and CCP has declined to comment."<p>

**Elcor Councillor Jomok retires, ambassador Caelyn succeeds him. **  
>"After years of faithful service Jomok has decided that now is the time to retire and pursue his long held dreams of artistic pursuits; citing that he's shouldered the burden of galactic politics long enough to last several life times and wishes to try something else with his life. Caelyn, with the full consent and approval of the other councillors, will be taking his office and hopes to continue efforts to maintain galactic stability."<p>

**Batarian Hegemony spokesman stirs controversy by giving supportive statement regarding Warlord Skunner. **  
>"Outrage has erupted as Hegemony government spokesman Jiulus Mamale states that Warlord Skunner, responsible for attacks on six fringe worlds of Alliance space and recently declared the loser of the battle of Tyranisia, was justified by what he claims is a climate of fear perpetuated by Prime Minister Ackerman's vehement anti-pirate and "batarophobic" rhetoric, claiming that while the loss of life and likely enslavement of Alliance citizens is a tragedy; that it is Ackerman's fault and that the Citadel must work to oust what he calls a "war mongering fountain of hate." before he starts a war."<p>

**Krogan Leaders meet with Epsilon for continuing talks regarding Genophage cure.**  
>"The galaxy holds its breath as leaders of Krogan Clans continue to meet with Headquarters Head Anca Albescu regarding a cure for the Genophage being developed by the reclusive nation. Critics of the cure project claim that Epsilon just wants the Krogan to become part of Epsilon and is attempting to use the offer of a cure to draw them in with as much positive PR as possible. Anca herself claims that Epsilon is merely seeking to undo the injustice inflicted upon the Krogan people by the Council. An important Salarian Dalatrass was reported as "Livid" and claims that Epsilon is toying with dangerous forces."<p>

**Continuing search for NEXUS forces turn up fruitless**  
>"Ever since the revelation that humanity had undergone the so called "Robot Storm" at the hands of the rogue A.I NEXUS and its synthetic hordes, Citadel space continues to search for where the A.I may have based itself to better prepare a defense against any potential incursions. Opponents cite that given NEXUS' lack of activity in the past three hundred years, it is likely that like the Geth, it has decided to isolate itself from the wider galaxy and is unlikely to suddenly change this course of action. Defenders of the search claim that being unprepared for a potential conflict is tantamount to national suicide."<p>

**Forgotten Confederacy condemns Crystal's Fury terrorist actions **

"The Forgotten Confederacy's leadership have once again called out the Crystal's Fury terrorist group for their recent attack on an Epsilon world, claiming that this act of terror goes against all that the forgotten have worked for in the name of advancing the cause of unity between Tiberium mutated and unaffected Sapients. The Forgotten Confederacy says that these acts by an angry minority in no way represent the cause of all Mutates and that they are offering full support in investigations against the organization, and continue to remind the galaxy at large that the Fury is a tiny minority in the mutant population."

**Allied Soviet Democratic-Communist party chairman claims Hegemony to be an "Empire of Evil."**  
>"Chairman Kurtuku Chappeleen of the ruling Democratic-Communist party, well known for being the longest serving Cetacean chairman of the Allied-Soviets, has made a speech many claim is inflammatory by declaring that the Batarian hegemony is an "Empire of Evil" due to continuing the "immoral practice of slavery", "openly backing slavers and pirates", "running a heartless regime that silences its people", "managing an economic system that continually oppresses the working class", "feeding its children a neverending stream of lies and propaganda", and "abhorrent levels of wealth inequality". The Hegemony has responded by calling the Alliance a nation where prosperity is dragged down to support the lazy and that it is a spreader of a dangerous ideology that threatens the rights of the winners in life."<p>

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><p>AN: Good grief that took way longer than I wanted it to. You have no idea how many times I had to rewrite the ending of this chapter from scrap when I decided I wasn't satisfied with the direction I was going. Before I had a massive overly long gratuitous battle scene describing Hannah's engagement with the enemy tank divisions in full detail, and then I decided to try and have her talk to a Turian military observer before I decided that having Dietrich talk with Wolfgang some more would be more natural for the story.<p>

And if you haven't guessed it yet, I am indeed splitting the character of Shepard into two. Wolfgang will be Maleshep, Catalina will be femshep. Though this should have been obvious if you knew what their last names translated into.

Also, Syndicate existing is like the worst kept secret in the business world. It just doesn't exist on publicly seen papers for many of the same reasons that Israel doesn't admit to owning a nuclear arsenal despite everyone knowing it has more than a hundred.


End file.
